c 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE  GODS  GIVE  MY 
DONKEY  WINGS 


fCARNATIONJ^^CllRTESjig] 


The  Gods  Give  My 
Donkey  Wings 

BY 

ANGUS  EVAN  ABBOTT 


f 


CHICAGO 
STONE  fcf  KIMBALL 

MDCCCXCV 


COPYRIGHT,    1895 
BY  STONE  &  KIMBALL 


ATT 


TO 

ELIZABETH  EVA,  ROBERT  ALLAN, 
RUSSELL,  MARIEL  GRACE  MARGARET, 

AWFUL  LITTLE  DONKEYS. 


631! 


THE    GODS   GIVE   MY 
DONKEY  WINGS 


CHAPTER  I 

Evening  was  upon  the  land  when  I  made 
out  the  collection  of  thatched  cottages  for 
which  I  had  been  in  search  this  many  a  day. 
Early  in  the  forenoon  I  had  stopped  to  allow 
my  weary  ass  to  drink  from  the  brim  of  a  pool 
at  the  foot  of  a  fall,  and  myself  to  bathe  feet 
in  the  cool  waters.  It  proved  a  harsh  climb 
before  we  reached  the  plateau  across  which  the 
river  wound  its  course,  but  the  top  once  gained 
I  knew  myself  to  be  on  the  verge  of  a  discovery. 

Ahead  a  great  mountain  pierced  the  clouds, 
its  mutch  of  snow  drawn  tightly  around  its  head 
and  tied  under  its  chin  by  two  ribbon-like  gla- 
ciers, which,  as  I  guessed,  fed  the  bustling  little 
river  along  whose  bank  I  now  led  my  patient 
donkey.  The  mountain,  it  seemed  to  me,  looked 
down  upon  the  valley  with  considerable  good 
humour,  and  as  I  plodded  along  I  could  see  the 

7 


8      The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

deep  shadows  of  evening  playing  on  its  gigantic 
shoulders  like  the  battalions  of  a  mighty  army 
manoeuvring  for  a  favourable  position.  The 
sun  had  disappeared  by  the  time  I  reached  the 
Thorp,  but  a  gentle  breeze,  blowing  up  from 
the  plain,  tempered  the  air  of  the  mountain  to 
sweetness  with  its  fragrant  balm.  By  the  peo- 
ple I  was  kindly  received.  There  appeared  to 
be  much  disputing  as  to  which  of  them  should 
have  the  honours,  as  they  were  good  enough  to 
consider  it,  of  entertaining  me,  there  being  no 
inn  or  other  house  of  public  hospitality  in  the 
place.  However,  the  matter  was  soon  settled, 
for  the  good  people  saw  that  my  ass  and  I 
were  weary,  and  I  was  taken  in  hand  by  a 
handsome,  strapping,  fairfaced  young  man  who 
led  me  with  many  signs  of  goodwill  to  a  house, 
wherein  I  found  a  woman,  she  might  be  some 
few  years  older  than  mine  host,  and  three  fair- 
haired,  round-faced  children.  As  I  had  feared, 
the  good  people  could  not  understand  me, 
although  I  addressed  them  in  many  tongues. 
This  was  like  to  prove  of  some  inconvenience 
to  me,  a  packman,  with  a  healthy  itch  for  gossip. 
My  pack  safely  indoors, — be  it  known  a 
packman's  first  thoughts  are  for  his  stock  in 
trade,  then  for  his  ass,  and  lastly  for  himself — 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings       9 

the  grime  of  travel  washed  away,  I  sat  me  down 
to  an  abundant  table  which  the  good-wife  had 
prepared  for  me.  About  me  all  was  clean  to  a 
fault.  The  floors  were  polished  until  I  grew 
suspicious  of  my  red  leather  slippers,  the  plat- 
ters of  beaten  copper  were  burnished  to  the 
reflective  powers  of  a  Christian's  mirror,  and 
the  table  of  white  wood  reflected  the  light  of 
the  taper  which  burned  fitfully  by  my  elbow. 
I  could  see  that  cleanliness  was  the  good 
woman's  god,  and  as  a  packman  must  ever 
humour  the  whims  of  the  people,  I  made  a  note 
to  have  my  slippers  handy  and  to  remove  my 
shoes  at  the  door,  like  a  heathen  worshipper, 
before  entering  her  house.  I  think  this  little 
thoughtfulness  won  me  the  woman's  good 
opinion. 

When  I  had  eaten  my  fill  and  drunk  to  my 
hostess  in  a  good  flagon  of  home  brew,  my  host 
took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  out  into  the 
one  street  of  the  place.  It  was  a  narrow  thor- 
oughfare paved  with  cobblestones,  with  on 
either  side  a  row  of  houses,  each  leaning  com- 
fortably against  its  neighbour,  their  great,  over- 
hanging, thatched  eaves  alive  with  twittering 
swallows,  and  their  windows  blinking  blandly 
across  the  way.     The  people,  too,  appeared  to 


io     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

be  hugely  sociable,  for  the  men  of  them  sat  on 
wooden  benches  under  the  eaves  in  groups, 
gossiping  and  cracking  jokes,  and  swigging 
great  mugs  of  their  brew;  and  the  women  stood 
together  with  weans  of  all  sizes  and  ages  romp- 
ing about  their  knees,  talking  too  and  enjoying 
the  cool  of  the  evening.  Mine  host,  with  every 
manifestation  of  civility,  led  me  down  the  street, 
introducing  me  as  I  took  it,  to  group  after  group, 
who  all  stood  up  when  I  bowed  to  them,  and 
took  off  their  reed-braid  hats  to  me.  They  were, 
as  a  body,  splendid  men,  the  copper  of  the  open 
air  on  their  cheeks;  the  clear  light  of  mountain 
views  in  their  eyes:  broad-chested,  loose  jointed, 
and  frank  of  face.  Honest  men  there  could  be 
no  doubt,  frugal  and  sober  in  their  habits,  and 
in  their  souls  a  wholesome  fear  for  the  gods. 

Now  as  all  people  well  know,  a  packman  is 
accustomed  to  take  note  of  the  little  things  that 
indicate  to  the  thoughtful  mind  great  things; 
for  to  him,  people,  be  they  merry,  or  be  they  sad, 
fain  would  present  but  one  aspect  of  feeling. 
And  if  he  is  to  view  life  with  its  varying  lights 
and  shadows,  he  must  be  on  the  alert  to  note 
the  small,  and  reason  thence  in  a  logical  way 
until  he  arrives  at  the  great.  And  this  evening 
as  I  walked  between  the  groups  of  people,  I 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      I  I 

quickly  became  aware  of  a  sense  of  unrest  per- 
vading the  Thorp.  The  impression  soon  be- 
came strong  on  my  mind  that  something  had 
disturbed,  or  threatened  to  disturb,  the  quiet  of 
the  place.  The  very  goats  that  frequented  the 
street  seemed  to  have  caught  the  fidgets  and 
continued  to  lie  down,  chew  their  cud  for  a  short 
time,  and  ge't  up  only  to  lie  down  and  chew 
their  cud  again.  That  something  untoward  had 
happened,  or  was  about  to  happen,  I  felt  in  my 
bones;  but  what  this  something  might  be  was, 
of  course,  out  of  my  power  to  divine.  Whether 
the  subdued  excitement  was  of  a  pleasurable 
kind  or  no  I  could  not  quite  make  out  from  the 
faces  of  the  people,  for  the  different  groups 
looked  upon  the  matter  in  wholly  different  ways. 
The  young  men  of  mine  host  type  seemed  to 
treat  whatever  the  question  or  matter  might  be 
with  considerable  contempt,  as  something  un- 
worthy of  general  discussion,  and  they  drank 
their  beer  lustily.  On  the  other  hand,  the  old 
men  sat  with  grave  faces  and  smoked  solemnly 
their  long  reed  pipes,  touching  but  little  liquor, 
and  occasionally  shaking  their  hoary  heads  the 
one  at  the  other.  But  it  is  to  the  women  I  turn 
for  anything  in  the  way  of  palaver.  I  found 
that   they  were   discussing  the   situation   with 


12     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

more  vehemence  than  I  could  have  credited, 
taking  into  account  their  cheery  faces  and 
buxom  proportions.  They  stood  in  knots  of 
eight  or  maybe  ten,  and  all  spoke  at  once  at  a 
tremendous  rate  and  then  fell  into  silence,  look- 
ing at  each  other  with  looks  which  said  that 
truly  the  strangest  things  imaginable  happen 
in  this  world. 

We  strolled  down  the  street  my  host  and  I, 
and  as  we  passed  along  he  said  a  cheerful  word 
here  and  made  a  kindly  inquiry  there;  but  as 
we  walked  I  could  see  that,  were  it  not  for  the 
promptings  of  hospitality,  he  would  long  ere 
this  have  seated  himself  to  his  pipe  and  mug,  to 
add  to  the  weight  of  argument  his  opinions  on 
the  question  that  was  causing  such  a  stir.  So  I 
took  an  early  opportunity  to  make  him  under- 
stand that  I  would,  with  him,  join  a  group  of 
fellows  towards  whom  he  had  been  casting 
wistful  glances.  An  expression  of  pleasure 
stole  into  his  honest  face,  and  seating  me,  he 
brought  for  me  a  pipe  and  a  mug  of  reaming 
brew,  and  himself  sat  down  happy.  With  my 
face  to  the  mountain  I  could  do  nothing  but 
gaze  at  the  marvellous  scene.  Soft  darkness 
had  fallen  upon  the  valley  and  plain  below 
us,  but  the  sun's  rays  crawling  up  the  side  of 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     13 

the  mountain  struck  the  ice  cap  with  a  million 
javelins  of  candicant  light  until  the  ice  and 
snow  sparkled  and  dazzled  like  a  crust  of  jag- 
ged diamonds.  The  great  cap  high  in  the  blue 
dome  bristled  and  scintillated  and  buzzed  with 
brilliant  fires. 

At  first  the  men  around  me  spoke  but  little, 
as  is  the  wont  of  Arcadians  when  a  stranger 
comes  into  their  midst;  but  seeing  me  wrapt  in 
the  grandeur  of  the  scene  spread  out  before  me, 
they  fell  into  passing  jocular  remarks  and 
clinking  their  earthen  mugs,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  hum  of  pleasant  conversation 
told  me  that  they  were  at  last  feeling  at  home 
in  my  presence.  I  strained  my  ear  to  catch  one 
word  at  all  familiar  to  me,  but  recognize  one  I 
could  not.  So  I  settled  myself  down  to  enjoy  a 
smoke  and  rest  after  my  weary  days  of  travel, 
and  to  accustom  my  ears  to  the  strange  tongue. 
That  I  would  soon  pick  up  the  language  of  the 
people,  I  had  no  doubt.  One  skilled  in  many 
languages  easily  acquires  an  additional  tongue. 
I  had  been  comfortably  seated  but  a  short 
while,  and  the  strangeness  of  my  company  had 
only  time  in  a  degree  to  wear  from  the  minds  of 
my  companions,  when  a  woman,  one  of  a  clus- 
ter standing  near  to  our  table  suddenly  stretched 


14     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

out  her  red  arm  and  pointed  down  the  way. 
Instantly  all  eyes  were  turned  in  the  direction, 
and  the  next  moment  a  hum  of  excitement  and 
mutterings  ran  along  either  side  of  the  street- 
The  women  snatched  their  children  into  their 
arms,  and  the  men  discreetly  put  their  huge 
beakers  out  of  sight  under  the  benches  and 
straightened  their  backs  into  a  stiffer  and 
more  respectful  attitude.  What  in  the  world 
could  be  approaching!  In  foreign  parts,  more 
especially  in  remote  niches  among  mountains, 
one  never  can  guess  what  strange  creatures  are 
indigenous.  I  rapidly  glanced  in  the  direction 
towards  which  the  woman  pointed,  more  than 
half  expecting,  if  the  truth  be  told,  to  find  some 
monster  of  the  mountain,  some  ogre  or  giant-of- 
one-eye,  with  maybe  a  head  or  two  of  his  own 
on  his  shoulders,  a  half  dozen  of  other  folk's  at 
his  girdle,  and  a  great  bludgeon  in  his  hand, 
come  swinging  down  the  street.  But  no!  In- 
stead of  monster  or  giant  or  dragon,  all  I  saw 
was  a  group  of  three  marching  towards  us  in 
the  middle  of  the  way;  a  man  and  two  women, 
or,  to  put  them  in  the  order  in  which  they  trav- 
eled, a  woman  and  a  man  and  woman.  Cer- 
tainly nothing  here  to  fear,  and  nothing  to 
cause  excitement.    But  excitement  the  pedes- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      15 

trians  did  cause.  So  far  as  I  could  judge  every 
man,  woman,  and  child  watched  the  progress 
of  the  three  with  a  degree  of  interest  curious  to 
note.  As  they  approached,  I  saw  group  after 
group  arise  from  the  tables,  and  first  making  a 
deep  reverence  to  the  three,  remain  standing 
until  they  had  well  passed.  Although  in  my  soul 
I  abhor  bowings  and  scrapings,  there  is  that  in 
etiquette  due  to  an  host  which  disarms  personal 
likes  and  dislikes.  So  I  made  ready  to  do  as 
those  with  whom  I  found  myself  were  doing. 
But  in  my  bowing  I  took  good  care  not  to 
protract  it  so  long  as  to  miss  the  chance  of  tak- 
ing a  calculating  view  of  the  three,  who,  truly 
there  could  be  little  doubt,  were  of  considera- 
ble importance  in  the  Thorp.  Of  the  three,  I 
saw  at  a  glance  that  there  was  but  one  of  sub- 
stantial authority;  a  woman,  tall,  heavy  of  bone, 
with  a  determined  face  of  hectic  hue,  a  promi- 
nent nose  slightly  hooked,  and  a  reasonable 
moustache  to  either  side  of  her  upper  lip.  Her 
eye  was  defiantly  fiery,  she  walked  abruptly 
erect,  and  brought  her  heel  down  with  a  reliant 
ring  on  the  cobble-stones  of  the  street.  A  wo- 
man from  whom  may  the  gods  defend  me — as 
from  each  and  all  of  her  class — if  I  do  her  not 
an  injustice. 


1 6     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

To  one  side  of  her,  but  half  a  step  behind, 
puffed  along  a  stumpy,  little  man,  a  good  ten 
years  older  than  the  She  if  I  guessed  the  truth, 
a  squat  body  of  short  legs  and  a  sublime  stom- 
ach, and  a  benign,  if  henpecked,  expression; 
and  as  he  stumped  and  puffed  along,  his  eyes 
wandered  wistfully  to  the  tables  by  the  way, 
and  to  the  groups  of  jolly  villagers,  and  I  saw 
that  he  knew  to  a  nicety  where  the  flagons  of 
brew  were  secreted,  and  I  could  well  believe 
how  he  yearned  to  take  his  place  at  one  of  the 
tables  and  crack  jokes  with  the  best  of  his 
neighbours.  But,  poor  soul  !  he  had  become 
entangled  in  the  skirts  of  the  determined  shrew 
— for  shrew  I  made  up  my  mind  she  must  be, — 
and  was  now  being  swept  along  at  a  greater 
rate  than  the  gods  had  ever  intended  his  short 
legs  to  carry  him.  To  the  left  of  the  termagant, 
also  half  a  step  behind,  strode  a  young  woman, 
at  a  hazard  I  should  say,  eight-and-twenty.  A 
glance  sufficed  to  tell  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  the  termagant.  She  had  the  build  and  looks 
of  her  mother,  with  a  certain  jejuneness  per- 
vading her  expression  which  instantly  robbed 
one  of  the  feelings  of  awe  that  instinctively 
came  to  the  soul  at  the  sight  of  the  shrew.  Her 
fulvous  hair  had  in  places  broken  loose,  and  her 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     17 

pale  blue  eyes  were  watery  and  indefinite,  but 
her  nose  was  in  the  air  and  she  wibble-wabbled 
along,  the  personification  of  rigid  propriety  and 
paucity  of  brains.  I  paid  but  little  heed  to  her, 
for  I  was  fascinated  by  the  great  woman  as  she 
marched  her  band  triumphantly  down  the 
street. 

We  were  all  so  busily  engaged  in  watching  the 
interesting  three,  that  no  one  of  us  seemed  to  have 
noticed  the  approach  of  a  fourth  person  from  the 
opposite  direction.  Indeed,  I  believe  it  must 
have  been  the  termagant  herself  who  discovered 
to  the  spectators  the  presence  of  another,  for  it 
was  plain  to  us  all  that  a  look  of  hatred  and 
contempt  overspread  her  face,  and  that  she  un- 
wittingly paused  in  her  stride  at  the  first  sight 
of  the  new-comer.  And  when  we  followed  the 
direction  of  her  glance,  we  found  a  young  man 
moving  towards  us.  He  carried  over  one  shoul- 
der a  sack  half  fined  with  some  substance  of  a 
dripping  nature,  and  which  must  have  been  un- 
commonly heavy  in  proportion  to  its  bulk,  for 
the  burden  gave  him  a  perceptible  list  to  one 
side  as  he  walked.  The  thrill  of  sensation 
which  had  run  through  the  people  at  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  three  was  now  intensified  to  an 
audible    murmur,  which    continued  until    the 


1 8     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

three  and  the  young  man  were  about  to  meet  at 
a  point  nearly  opposite  where  I  stood.  Then 
the  murmur  ceased,  and  a  startling  silence  fell 
upon  the  people.  The  young  man  came  swing- 
ing along,  indifference  depicted  on  his  face  and 
in  his  very  gait,  no  devil-may-care  air  about 
him,  but  the  bland  unconcern  that  tells  of  a 
spirit  careless  of  the  censure  or  praise  of  on- 
lookers, whether  it  be  as  to  his  character,  dress, 
or  manner.  When  he  came  opposite  the  three, 
he  pulled  off  his  straw  plait  headgear  to  them, 
out  of  mechanical  politeness  I  could  see,  for  he 
did  not  so  much  as  raise  his  eyes  to  one  of 
them.  As  for  the  termagant  and  her  brood, 
they  none  of  them  returned  his  salutation  by 
look,  word  or  action;  but  after  the  momentary 
pause,  swept  on  down  the  street,  the  great 
woman's  face  more  fiery  than  ever,  and  the 
man,  poor  soul !  although  that  were  indeed  dif- 
ficult, looking  uneasier  than  before. 

Now  a  packman  knows  when  he  has  seen 
anything  of  more  than  ordinary  importance,  and 
that  this  meeting  seemed  in  the  eyes  of  the  peo- 
ple an  episode  of  exceptional  moment,  there 
could  be  no  room  for  doubt.  I  saw  that  the  peo- 
ple were  quite  unable  to  take  their  attention  off 
the  pedestrians  until  the  three  disappeared  in  a 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      19 

door  at  one  end  of  the  Thorp,  and  the  one  in  a 
door  at  the  other  'end  of  it.  When  this  hap- 
pened, the  people  gazed  in  open-mouthed  won- 
derment the  one  at  the  other  for  a  space  of 
time,  and  presently,  as  if  a  signal  had  been 
given,  fell  to  talking,  hammer  and  tongs.  The 
women  rapidly  dropped  their  children  to  the 
ground,  and  while  with  one  hand  retaining  con- 
trol of  them  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck,  they  ges- 
ticulated frantically  with  the  other;  while  the 
men,  more  phlegmatical  by  right  of  sex,  lighted 
their  pipes,  groped  under  the  seats  for  their 
mugs,  and  took  a  swig  before  turning  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  incident,  tragic  or  comic,  which- 
ever it  may  have  been.  Certainly  the  affair 
aroused  my  curiosity  to  a  pitch  that  I  there  and 
then  made  up  my  mind  to  bide  in  the  Thorp 
(given  reasonable  success  in  driving  my  trade) 
until  such  time  as  I  had  discovered  what  it  was 
all  about.  Even  a  packman  has  his  foibles 
and  my  greatest,  I  fear,  is  a  lively  curiosity  re- 
garding the  affairs  of  my  neighbours,  a  failing 
— if  it  be  a  failing  at  all — which  prevails  in 
many  parts  of  the  globe.  I  went  to  bed  that 
night  with  a  feeling  that  something  of  interest 
was  in  store  for  me. 


CHAPTER  II 

The  next  morning  I  arose  before  the  sun,  for 
the  air  of  the  morning  is  the  breath  of  life,  and 
taking  my  ass,  I  led  her  gently  along  the  brink 
of  the  stream  that  flowed  by  the  Thorp,  allow- 
ing the  patient  beast  to  crop  the  rich  grasses 
that  grew  by  the  way,  while  I  speculated  on  the 
strange  scene  of  which  I  had  been  a  witness  the 
evening  before,  and  tried  to  satisfy  myself  as  to 
whether  the  people  among  whom  I  so  unex- 
pectedly found  myself  were  likely  to  be  shrewd 
at  a  bargain,  and  well  informed  touching  the 
quality  and  cost  of  my  wares.  It  gave  promise 
of  a  glorious  day.  A  few  fleecy  clouds  swung 
around  the  base  of  the  mountain  and  dragged 
slowly  from  point  to  point,  catching  at  the  jag- 
ged shoulders  of  rock  as  though,  like  young  birds, 
afraid  to  launch  themselves  upon  the  air,  and 
trailing  reluctantly  up,  and  up,  and  up,  increasing 
in  size  as  they  progressed  until  a  number  of 
them,  joining  their  ragged  edges,  at  last  adven- 
tured against  the  blue  sky  of  morning.    Birds 

20 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      21 

sang  cheerily,  and  the  bleating  of  goats  was  on 
the  air. 

I  slowly  made  my  way  along  a  goat-track  that 
followed  the  winding  of  the  stream,  and  had 
reached  a  point  as  near  as  might  be  to  half  a 
Christian  mile  from  the  Thorp,  when  I  became 
aware  of  a  movement  in  the  waters  behind  me. 
Quickly  glancing  over  my  shoulder — not  that  I 
feared,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is  as  well  to  be  on  one's 
guard  in  a  strange  land — I  beheld  the  nose  of  a 
canoe  coming  round  the  bend  not  so  very  far 
behind  me.  I  wondered  who  he  could  be  that 
came  abroad  thus  early,  for  few  but  philoso- 
phers, who  should  know  better,  stir  abroad  a 
moment  sooner  than  necessity  compels.  Choos- 
ing a  comfortable  seat  by  the  side  of  a  huge 
boulder  that  hung  over  the  brink  of  the  stream, 
I  resolved  to  wait  the  coming  of  the  canoe,  and 
to  speculate  on  th"e  cause  of  so  early  a  journey. 
As  the  craft  came  nearer,  lo!  I  beheld,  flourish- 
ing the  paddle  with  enthusiastic  vigour,  the 
young  man  of  the  previous  evening's  episode. 
His  head  was  bare,  showing  a  great  clump  of 
tangled  hair,  his  jacket  loose,  and  his  chest  and 
arms  exposed  to  the  cool  morning  air,  were 
knotted  with  muscles  that  writhed  and  doubled 
to  the  sweep  of  his  paddle  as  he  shot  the  canoe 


22      The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

against  the  stream,  which  here  flowed  rapidly. 
As  he  approached  me,  I  took  occasion  to  ex- 
amine his  face  with  a  more  minute  scrutiny  than 
had  been  my  privilege  when  first  I  saw  him.  It 
was  an  open  face,  shaven,  bright  and  frank, 
with  eyes  of  piercing  clearness,  features  sharply 
defined,  straight  nose,  and  decided  chin.  He 
did  not  sight  me  until  his  craft  was  almost 
abreast  of  the  point  where  I  sat;  but  when  at 
last  his  eyes  fell  upon  me,  he  gave  no  start  nor 
any  look  of  surprise,  but  called  to  me  in  a  pleas- 
ant, manly  voice  some  words  which  I  took  to  be 
a  morning  greeting.  I  returned  the  salute 
speaking  in  my  own  tongue.  At  this  he  turned 
his  face  quickly  towards  me,  at  the  same  time 
checking  the  course  of  his  canoe,  and  for  a 
moment  he  ran  his  eye  curiously  over  me. 
Gently  dipping  his  paddle  into  the  water  to 
keep  the  canoe  abreast  of  me,  he  seemed  to 
hesitate  as  one  searching  the  dictionary  of  his 
mind  for  a  word,  and  at  last  replied  in  the  lan- 
guage I  myself  had  used,  but  with  the  stilted 
precision  of  one  unaccustomed  to  the  tongue. 

"  A  glorious  morning,  indeed." 

Now  this  was  a  pleasant  surprise  to  me.  I 
had  despaired  of  finding  anyone  in  the  Thorp 
who  was  at  all  familiar  with  my  tongue,  and 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     23 

one's  own  tongue  from  the  lips  of  another  is 
music  in  a  strange  land.  Continuing,  he  in- 
quired: 

"You  are  a  stranger  in  these  parts,  sir!"  to 
which  I  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  in  return 
asked  him  if  he  were  a  native  of  the  Thorp. 

Yes,  he  had  been  born  and  had  lived  his 
life  in  the  Thorp.  He  said  I  would  find  few 
in  those  parts  to  speak  my  tongue;  and  when 
I  told  him  that,  himself  alone  excepted,  in  my 
forty-two  days'  travel  I  had  met  with  none  who 
could,  he  replied  that  so  far  as  he  knew  no  one 
understood  the  language,  and  he,  more's  the 
pity,  but  imperfectly.  How  unfortunate  that  this 
should  be  so,  for  there  was  one  matter  only  that 
exercised  my  curiosity,  and  of  that  I  could  not 
be  so  ill-bred  as  to  inquire  of  one  whom  I  knew 
to  be  a  principal  to  the  striking  incident.  This 
would  be  more  fhan  even  a  packman's  in- 
quisitiveness  allowed.  But  not  to  be  completely 
beaten,  I  cudgelled  my  brains  for  some  way  to 
introduce  the  subject  of  last  evening's  street 
scene  without  giving  offence.  If  I  failed  to  get 
a  clue  from  this  young  man,  who  alone  of  all 
the  people  could  speak  my  language,  there  was 
little  likelihood  of  my  coming  to  the  end  of  the 
mystery  without  a  great  wrack   of  brain   and 


24     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wing* 

speculation,  if,  indeed,  I  came  by  the  end  at  all. 
So  I  said: 

"  I  saw  you,  did  I  not,  walk  down  the  middle 
of  the  street  last  evening?  " 

He  again  glanced  quickly  at  me,  and  a  play- 
ful smile  flitted  across  his  face  as  he  made 
reply : 

"  Many  people  did,  if  my  memory  does  not 
play  me  false." 

Now  this  I  took  to  be  a  mild  rebuff  to  my 
inquisitiveness,  and  as  I  well  know,  a  man  who  is 
over  curious  cannot  afford  to  draw  suspicion 
upon  himself  too  early  in  the  game,  for  people, 
unthoughtful  and  perverse,  as  a  rule  insist  on 
telling  the  news  to  those  who  do  not  care  to 
hear,  and  withholding  it  from  those  who,  like 
myself,  are  athirst  for  even  the  meanest  item. 
The  young  man's  answer  at  once  made  me 
more  cautious.  Unfortunately,  it  did  not,  on 
the  other  hand,  assist  towards  the  solution  of 
the  mystery.  After  a  pause,  and  as  if  to  neu- 
tralise the  slap  in  the  face,  he  asked  me  if 
I  would  look  in  at  his  house  at  sundown,  saying 
that  he  would  much  like  to  have  a  chat  with 
me,  and  I,  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  a  crack, 
answered  him  that  it  would  give  me  great 
pleasure    to    experience    his    hospitality.     He 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     25 

described  to  me  his  house,  so  that  I  might  have 
no  difficulty  in  finding  it  ;  but  I  noticed  that  he 
did  not  mention  his  name,  nor  did  he  ask  mine. 
As  we  were  speaking,  he  had  run  the  nose  of 
his  canoe  into  a  patch  of  white  sand,  and  stood 
for  some  minutes  arranging  a  clump  of  dry 
rushes  that  had  been  dipped  in  some  greasy 
substance,  the  whole  affair  looking  very  much 
like  a  flambeau.  This  securely  fixed  in  an 
upright  position  at  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  my 
young  friend  resumed  his  seat,  shoved  off  the 
sand  bar,  and,  flourishing  good-bye  with  his 
paddle,  disappeared  around  a  point. 

And  now  I  found  yet  another  matter  to 
agitate  my  curiosity.  Where  in  the  name  of 
goodness  could  the  young  man  be  going? 
Already  he  was  among  the  roots  of  the  moun- 
tain. From  where  I  sat  began  the  upward 
sweep  of  the  mountain,  and  every  step  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  young  man  had  gone  was 
a  step  skyward.  Moreover,  I  could  hear  the 
roar  of  falling  waters  ahead.  Yet  the  man  in 
the  canoe  had  paddled  away  as  if  he  were 
bound  for  a  journey  of  some  duration.  This 
surely  was  an  uncommon  thing.  But  the  sun 
had  risen,  and  mine  host  might  be  wondering 
what  had  become  of  me,  so  back   I  started, 


26     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

leaving  it  for  a  more  convenient  season  to  dis- 
cover the  secret  of  the  stream. 

That  afternoon  the  man  in  whose  house  I 
found  myself  so  comfortable,  by  signs  and 
beckonings  led  me  to  understand  that  he  wished 
me  to  accompany  him,  but  where  or  why  I  was, 
of  course,  unable  to  guess.  I  put  on  my  cap, 
and  taking  my  staff  pointed  to  my  pack  and 
looked  inquiringly  at  him,  for  it  crossed  my 
mind  that  he  had  tired  of  me,  and  wished  to 
find  me  other  lodgings.  But  no  ;  he  shook  his 
head,  and  signalling  me  to  leave  the  pack,  we 
made  off.  Down  the  street,  some  seven  houses 
or  so  distant  from  mine  host's,  we  came  to  one 
of  more  pretensions  than  its  neighbours,  having 
above  the  door  of  it,  and  protected  from  the 
weather  by  an  alcove  of  deftly  woven  willow, 
three  modelled  figures  in  clay,  as  I  guessed, 
the  totem  of  the  Thorp.  Without  knocking, 
my  guide  pulled  the  latch-string  and  entered 
a  room  which  had  all  the  appearances  of  a 
waiting-room.  In  this  lobby  we  found  no 
one,  but  before  we  had  closed  the  outer  door 
plainly  heard  voices  in  high  debate.  It  was 
a  masculine  voice  that  spoke  as  we  entered, 
but  in  a  moment  this  was  silenced,  and  the 
strident   notes  of   a  woman's   tongue,   cutting 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      27 

short  the  first  speaker,  poured  forth  a  raging 
torrent  of  words,  which  in  turn  was  interrupted 
by  a  decisively  spoken  sentence,  delivered  in  a 
tone  which  I  thought  I  recognised.  The  female's 
tirade  was  checked  but  for  a  moment.  The 
verbose  torrent  swept  away  the  barrier,  and 
began  with  renewed  fury  to  rage  on  its  way,  and 
the  next  instant  the  door,  opening  into  the  room 
in  which  we  were,  flew  back  upon  its  hinges, 
and  striding  from  the  inner  room  came  my 
young  man  of  the  canoe,  and  tripping  after  him 
a  dainty  little  lady.  My  acquaintance  held  his 
head  proudly  in  air,  but  his  lips  were  drawn, 
his  clear  eye  flashed  fire,  and  one  with  half  an 
eye  could  tell  that  he  was  angry  from  the  crown 
of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot.  His  cloak 
brushed  my  knees,  so  closely  to  me  he  passed, 
yet  he  was  so  absorbed  in  whatever  had  taken 
place  that  he  did  not  see  me.  But  the  girl 
certainly  did,  for  she  shot  a  roguish  glance 
from  her  black  eyes,  and  gave  me  a  smile  that 
was,  despite  her  pluck,  quite  half  a  sob — a 
smile  which  dimpled  her  cheeks  as  she  passed 
us,  and  without  pausing  she  tripped  through 
the  doorway  under  the  arm  of  the  man  who 
held  the  door  open  for  her,  and  we  were  once 
more  alone  in  the  entry.    She  quite  took  my 


28     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

breath  away  did  this  slender,  roguish  maiden, 
and,  old  bachelor  packman  that  I  am,  I  fell  in 
love  with  her  at  first  sight,  as,  indeed,  I  do  with 
most  women  who  are  little  and  plucky  and 
young.  The  woman's  voice  still  sounded  from 
the  inner  room,  and  to  give  him  his  due,  I 
could  see  that  every  word  she  spoke  was  drunk 
in  by  mine  host,  and  doubtlessly  stored  away 
for  future  recapitulation.  It  may  be  that  a 
laudable  ambition  to  be  in  a  position  to  tell 
a  finished  tale  to  his  less  fortunate  townsmen 
had  as  much  to  do  with  his  delay  in  making  our 
presence  known  as  had  a  gallant  hesitancy 
to  break  in  upon  a  scolding  wife. 

As  we  stood  in  the  waiting  room,  I  thought 
of  the  custom  that  obtains  in  Christian  lands — 
I  speak  of  those  Christians,  for  I  have  but 
lately  returned  from  a  journey  to  their  abodes. 
Those  strange  people,  then,  have  a  custom  of 
knocking  at  the  outer  door  and  waiting  until 
invited  from  the  inside  to  enter.  To  be  sure,  it 
is  a  custom  that  would  never  be  put  up  with  here, 
for  it  assumes  on  the  part  of  the  owner  of  the 
house  an  unreadiness  or  an  unwillingness  to  re- 
ceive whosoever  asks  for  admission,  neither  of 
which  assumptions  is  creditable  to  one  party  or 
the  other.    But  it  occurred  to  me  that  in  this 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     29 

particular  case  the  Christian  practice  would 
be  of  some  convenience  at  least.  However, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but,  after  listening  a 
reasonable  time,  to  open  the  door  and  walk  in. 
This,  therefore,  we  did. 

The  room  into  which  we  stepped  was  larger 
than  that  we  had  quitted,  and  furnished  in 
a  more  becoming  fashion.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  tapestry,  well-modelled  figures  of 
clay  occupied  niches,  and  the  furniture  was 
richly  carved  and  of  substantial  proportions. 
But  not  the  furniture,  nor  the  size  of  the  room, 
nor  the  tapestry  and  ornaments  attracted  my 
interest.  For  deeply  sunk  in  a  great  cushioned 
chair,  his  hands  thrust  well  into  his  pockets,  his 
fat  legs  stretched  before  him,  and  a  most  woe- 
begone look  on  his  podgy  face,  sat  the  old  man 
I  had  seen  on  the  previous  evening  hurried 
down  the  street;  and  walking  the  floor,  in  a 
hurricane  of  passion,  the  masculine  she,  the 
termagant,  rage  writ  on  her  every  feature,  who, 
as  we  entered,  shot  one  withering  glance  of 
contempt  at  the  old  man.  He  appeared  to 
be  about  to  hazard  a  reply  to  her  ragings  when 
his  eye  fell  upon  us,  and  she,  noticing  a  ripple 
of  recognition  pass  over  his  face,  looked  sharply 
around.     Without  acknowledging  our  saluta- 


30     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

tions,  she  strode  out  of  the  room  like  an 
indignant  ogress.  Whew !  Thank  you !  No 
lace  shall  I  try  to  barter  with  you  !  The  very 
sight  of  you  has  taken  my  breath  away  ! 

The  old  man  glanced  timorously  over  his 
shoulder  to  make  sure  that  she  had  gone,  and 
when  he  saw  that  she  had  indeed  quitted  the 
room,  he  threw  his  head  in  the  air,  as  though 
tossing  away  the  remembrance  of  her  tongue, 
withdrew  his  hands  from  his  pockets,  and  sat 
up  in  his  chair,  a  melancholy  grin  overspreading 
his  countenance.  Mine  host  took  me  by  the 
hand  as  if  I  were  a  child,  although  I  was  old 
enough  to  be  his  father,  and,  leading  me  for- 
ward, bowed  to  the  old  man,  and  said  something 
of  which  I  could  not  understand  one  word. 
But  a  packman  knows  the  language  of  the  face, 
the  lips,  the  eyes,  the  very  wrinkles,  and  I 
guessed  that  I  was  being  made  known  to  a  digni- 
tary of  the  Thorp  as  a  stranger  within  its  gates. 
Poor  fellow !  I  could  well  believe  that  he  was 
a  kind,  old  man,  with  a  great  heart  that  had  not 
yet  been  sapped  of  all  its  juices,  or  completely 
crushed  under  the  heel  of  domestic  adversity. 
He  arose  and  laid  his  hands  impressively  upon 
my  head  and  spoke,  a  benediction  it  might 
have  been,  so  solemnly  were  the  words  uttered. 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     31 

He  seated  us,  and  when  he  turned  to  mine  host, 
and  especially  after  he  had  brought  to  us 
something  in  the  shape  of  good  liquor,  I  saw 
with  joy  the  jovial,  sociable  soul  of  the  old  man 
expand,  until  presently  it  beamed  from  his  fat 
face.  We  sat  with  him  for  a  long  time.  When 
at  last  we  arose  to  depart,  he  saw  us  to  the 
door,  and  gazing  away  to  the  mountain  that, 
covered  with  snow,  towered  to  the  sky, — snow 
no  whiter  than  his  own  hair — he  repeated  the 
benediction.  As  I  walked  away,  I  could  not 
but  feel  a  touching  sorrow  for  the  old  man. 
And  that  termagant !  The  gods  protect  me,  an 
old  bachelor,  from  her,  and  from  the  likes  of 
her !  May  the  spears  of  the  followers  of  the 
false  prophet  Mohamet  pierce  me  ;  may  the 
cruel  after-life  fires  of  the  Christians  warp  me  ; 
may  the  rods  of  the  Confucian  fall  upon  the 
soles  of  my  fefit,  and  the  dread  spells  of  all 
foreign  gods  and  devils  combined  be  upon  my 
soul,  rather  than  that  I  should  fall  into  the 
keeping  of  a  scolding  wife  !  Ah,  what  a  differ- 
ence to  turn  the  mind  from  the  termagant  to 
the  little  lady  who  had  tip-toed  so  gracefully 
after  the  young  man !  And,  by  the  way,  what 
in  the  world  were  the  two  of  them,  the  little 
lady  and  the  young  man  of  the  canoe,  doing 


32     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

in  the  presence  of  the  termagant  and  the  old 
man  ?  They  were  exactly  the  people  I  did 
not  expect  to  find  together.  And  why  had 
the  termagant  flown  into  such  a  deplorable 
rage  ?  "  Confound  it  all,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  I 
must  bestir  me  to  learn  the  language." 

In  the  early  evening  I  took  my  seat  on  one 
of  the  benches  in  front  of  the  door  where 
already  the  men  folk,  returned  from  fat  fields 
and  pasture  lands,  were  assembling  to  gossip 
and  to  swig,  for  I  determined  to  hearken  at- 
tentively to  their  conversation  that  my  ear 
might  be  attuned  to  their  strange  tongue.  The 
followers  of  Christ  have  it  that  "to  whom  the 
gods  hath  given,  he  shall  receive  the  more  from 
the  gods ;  "  and  verily  I  believe  those  strange 
peoples  are  not  so  far  wrong  as  is  their  wont  to 
be,  for  I  have  found  with  each  new  tongue 
acquired  an  increased  ease  in  acquiring  the 
next.  It  is  but  picking  a  word  from  this  tongue 
and  a  word  from  that,  and  there  one  has  the 
language.  But  first  of  all,  as  I  have  said,  the 
ear  takes  impatiently  to  the  new  arrangement 
and  proportion  of  sounds,  and  must  be  broken 
in  like  the  foal  of  an  ass.  I  soon  found  sitting 
around  me  a  group  of  men,  sturdy  and  stoutly 
built,  with  thews  like  supple  steel,  from  much 


1 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     33 

climbing  after  the  he-goats  of  the  mountain, 
and  who  drank  with  a  certain    grandeur    of 
capacity  that  charmed  me,  for  truly  the  world 
admires  a  large  drinking  man  as  it  does  a  soft 
spoken  woman.  The  fellows  comfortably  settled 
to  their  benches  and  their  bowls,  I  could  see 
that  the  event  of  last  night  was  still  the  great 
subject  of  speculation,  and  that  mine  host  had 
suddenly    become    a    mighty    important    per- 
sonage, as  compared  with  the  previous  evening, 
was  equally  apparent.     He  passed  from  group 
to  group,  followed  by  an  ever-increasing  num- 
ber of  listeners  eager,  as  many  people  are,  to 
hear  a  second   telling  of  a  tale,  and   in  this 
way  he  was  slowly   making  down  the  street. 
Whatever  had  happened  at  the  interview  this 
afternoon    between    the    young    man    of    the 
canoe  and  the  old  man  of  the  termagant  wife, 
it  was  undoubtedly  a  matter  of  moment,  and 
a  definite  step  in  the  career  of  the  dispute. 
I  cannot  believe  that  packman  was  ever    in 
such  a    tantalising    position  as    I   found   my- 
self.    The   drama  acted  all   around  me,   and 
I  unable  to  follow  the   shiftings  of    the  play. 
I    almost    screwed    my    spirit    to    a    resolve 
to  ask   the   young  man    point  blank    what  it 
was  all  about,  but  the  thought  of    the  quiet 


34     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

snub  of  the  morning  withered  the  heroic  reso- 
lution. 

Again  it  occurred  to  me  as  I  sat  there  that  I 
might  do  worse  than  discuss  with  myself  the 
question  of  how  the  people  of  the  Thorp  were 
likely  to  look  upon  my  visit  to  the  young  man. 
Undoubtedly  he  was  unpopular.  As  to  that, 
there  could  be  no  question.  Would  my  visit  to 
him  include  me  in  his  unpopularity?  A  pack- 
man must  look  sharply  to  his  doings  that  he 
mix  not  himself  with  the  wrong  cliques,  or 
his  bargain-driving  will  inevitably  suffer  in  the 
long  run.  But  when  I  propounded  question 
and  supplied  answer  I  found  it  came  to  this  : 
either  I  must  risk  a  problematical  decrease 
in  sales  or  forego  any  chance  of  coming  by 
the  truth  of  the  doings  which  were  so  exer- 
cising my  soul.  It  was  a  sore  choice  for  a 
thrifty  packman ;  but  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  hazard  my  reputation,  and  tramp  away  if 
I  found  the  people  at  variance  with  me.  Any 
packman  would  have  done  the  same,  I  feel 
assured,  for  gossip  is  to  us  as  the  breath  of  our 
nostrils.  So  I  betook  me  up  the  street  to 
the  house  of  the  young  man. 


CHAPTER  III 

I  pulled  the  latch-string,  the  door  swung 
open,  and  passing  at  once  through  the  ante- 
room, I  pushed  back  a  heavy  curtain  and 
slipped  into  the  house  proper,  and  found — ? 
Myself  in  the  strangest  place  one  could  well 
imagine.  A  large,  oblong  room,  the  floor  of 
earth  pounded  to  a  stone-like  surface,  and 
smooth,  with  great  blotches  of  quaintly  woven 
carpets  here  and  there,  ceilingless,  rafters 
exposed  and  the  rush-thatch  showing  through, 
festooned  with  many  spider  webs,  and  heavy 
cross-beams  hung  with  strange  weapons  of  the 
chase  and  of  wa^.  At  places,  thick  curtains  of 
fine  material  fell  toward  the  floor,  and  were 
caught  back  to  make  a  passage-way,  or  hung 
against  the  wall,  and  the  evening  light  poured 
through  more  windows  than  I  had  ever  seen  in 
such  a  small  compass.  These  and  many  other 
matters  I  took  in  at  a  glance.  But  they  were 
trifles  in  comparison  with  the  chief  feature 
of  the  great  room.   For  hanging  from  the  cross- 

35 


36     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

beams,  swinging  from  pegs  in  the  wall,  lying  on 
the  floors,  with  ghastly  mouths  open  as  if  in  the 
last  throes  of  strangulation,  heaped  in  the 
corners,  piled  up  on  the  floor,  grinning,  leering, 
frowning,  staring,  gasping,  crying,  laughing, 
blinking;  everywhere,  from  one  end  of  the 
room  to  the  other,  and  up  to  the  ceiling,  were 
strange  shapes  in  clay  of  the  ghastliest  white. 
They  filled  the  room  with  scowl  and  smirk,  and 
the  place  looked  the  very  abode  of  my  youthful 
nightmares, — my  dreams  of  the  after  world. 
The  shades  of  night  flitted  across  the  upturned 
faces,  until  I  began  to  think  I  saw  several  of 
them  wink  leeringly  at  me,  and  I  verily  believe 
that  anyone  but  a  packman  would  have  turned 
tail  and  fled  from  the  place  of  awful  shapes. 
Assuredly  it  was  only  by  a  strong  effort  of 
will  that  I  screwed  myself  to  the  pitch  and 
entered  the  room.  This  morning  truly  I  had 
met  with  a  congenial  spirit,  for,  ah  !  I  love  the 
gods  and  the  makers  of  them.  The  fashioner 
of  wet  clay,  the  moulder  of  grinning  faces  and 
strange  bodies,  the  sculptor,  the  craftsman 
of  the  countryside,  the  soul  of  art  in  the  body  of 
flesh  ;  in  fact,  the  maker  of  gods.  And  there  he 
stood  among  his  gods,  a  coarse  overall  about 
him  to  keep  the  clay  from  his  clothes,  his  bushy 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     37 

head  bare,  and  his  cheeks  swollen  with  water 
which  he  was  about  to  blow  against  a  dun-clay 
figure  that  stood  on  a  pedestal  with  its  wraps  of 
coarse  brown  cloth  at  its  feet.  As  I  entered, 
he  glanced  towards  me,  but,  his  mouth  full 
of  water,  he  could  only  nod  a  welcome,  and 
continued  to  blow  the  spray  against  the  passive 
figure.  This  gave  me  time  to  look  about  me. 
Such  gods!  Such  serviceable  gods!  Convenient 
of  size,  portable,  non-interfering,  and  fashioned 
for  any  mood  and  occasion.  To  my  right,  as  I 
entered,  stood  the  god  of  rain,  moulded  of 
a  clay  which  the  sun  would  shiver  in  an  after- 
noon, so  that  should  the  god  prove  an  indolent 
god,  he  was  so  to  his  own  destruction.  And  to 
my  left  there  stood,  balanced  on  one  foot, 
the  god  of  the  quiet  earth,  in  much  requisition 
in  mountainous  ^and  volcanic  districts  where 
land-slides  and  tremblings  of  the  earth  sorely 
distress  the  good  folk.  The  god  of  the  quiet 
earth  balanced  on  one  foot  so  daintily  that 
should  he  allow  the  slightest  tremor  of  the 
ground,  down  he  himself  must  come  and  smash 
to  pieces  on  the  stones  arranged  around  his 
foot  for  that  very  purpose.  For  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Thorp,  sensible  people,  looked  after 
their  gods,  and  saw  to  it  that  the  gods  were  not 


38     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

only  worshipped,  but  that  they  did  their  duty. 
Among  such  deities  and  their  brood,  water- 
nymphs,  fays,  goblins,  and  strange-horned 
beasts,  I  picked  my  way  until  I  stood  beside 
the  man,  the  creator  of  clay  creatures,  the 
maker  of  gods. 

Some  time  passed  before  he  even  looked 
towards  me,  but  having  wetted  the  clay  figure 
to  a  nicety,  he  proceeded  to  bandage  and  wrap 
it  up  with  strips  of  damp  cloth,  fastening  these 
with  wooden  skewers  until  the  figure  stood 
muffled  from  foot  to  head.  Not  until  this  was 
done  to  his  satisfaction  did  he  pause  to  glance 
at  me — a  wistful  look  it  seemed  to  me.  His 
expression  was  that  of  one  trying  to  make  uphis 
mind  on  some  point  or  other  as  to  my  friend- 
ship, trustworthiness,  sagacity,  or  mental  acu- 
men. At  last,  as  though  satisfied  on  the  score, 
he  said  abruptly  enough  : 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come.     I  am  going." 

I  looked  him  in  the  face,  but  said  nothing. 
His  brows  fell  as  he  continued  impatiently 
in  the  short  sentences  of  one  who  is  not  a 
thorough  master  of  the  language  which  he 
finds  it  necessary  to  employ. 

"  I  go.  I  have  enough.  They  stone  me 
in  the  street.     They  point ;  they  jeer.     Wait. 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     39 

Their  gods  shall  go  done.  Who  will  make 
them  more? " 

He  ceased  speaking  as  abruptly  as  he  had 
begun,  and  bent  his  gaze  upon  me,  a  gaze 
intended  to  be  of  the  sternest  ;  but  I  thought 
that  I  could  divine  somewhere  away  at  the 
back  of  his  eye  a  merry  twinkle  that  told  of 
a  humorous  soul  within. 

"They  will  cry  aloud  to  the  gods,  but  the 
gods  will  not  heed.  Drought  will  fall  upon 
the  land.  The  earth  shall  tremble  to  their 
undoing.  For  I  go.  By  the  gods  they  shall 
lose  their  gods — and  more.  But  you  are  not 
as  these.  You  are  from  afar.  Will  you  do  me 
a  service?" 

I  told  him  I  would  be  pleased  to  be  of  any 
service  to  the  maker  of  gods. 

"Then  you  will  keep  this  till  the  sun  rises 
to-morrow,  and  when  it  reaches  the  height 
of  yonder  shoulder," — he  pointed  to  the  moun- 
tain,— "  you  will  take  it  and  place  it  yourself— 
trust  to  no  one — in  the  hands  of  the  father." 

He  gave  me  a  parchment  carefully  sealed, 
and  addressed  with  many  queer  flourishes 
and  figures,  but  written  in  the  language  I 
understood  not. 

"The  father?" 


40     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

"  The  father  of  the  Commune ;  do  you  not 
know  him?  Have  they  not  shown  you  to 
him  yet?  The  white-haired  old  soul  who 
lives  in  the  house  with  the  Thorp's  totem 
above  the  door." 

"Where  you  were  this  afternoon?"  I 
interrupted,  to  let  him  know  that  I  had  seen 
him,  and  of  course  with  a  shrewd  idea  that 
this  might  possibly  cause  him  to  initiate  me 
into  his  secret. 

"  How  do  you  know  that? "  he  asked 
abruptly.  "  How  know  you  I  was  there  ? 
You  do  not  speak  the  language.  They  could 
not  have  told  you  !" 

"  I  saw  you.  I  went  into  the  father's  house 
as  you  came  out." 

He  raised  his  eyebrows  and  looked  in  a  very 
old-fashioned  way  at  me. 

"Then  you  heard?" 

"  Without  understanding." 

"  Ah,  yes  !  I  had  forgotten.  You  will  enjoy 
it  all — when  you  know." 

Another  sad  disappointment. 

"  I  go  into  the  mountain,"  he  continued, 
in  an  enthusiastically  excited  voice.  "A  league 
of  rock  and  ice  shall  cover  me  from  them 
and  their  ways.     I   shall  kindle    my  fire  on 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     41 

the  shores  of  the  Yellow  Lake.  The  bats 
shall  flutter  around  me,  and  the  cats  of  the 
mountain  their  flaming  eyes  will  look  out  of 
the  blackness  at  me,  and  I  shall  mould  a 
god  of  distorted  face,  gaunt,  and  with  talons 
in  place  of  fingers  ;  and  when  the  Thorp  cries 
for  a  god,  I  will  send  one.  I  go  to-night. 
When  I  return,  I  will  tell  you  all." 

I  followed  each  word  he  uttered  with  at- 
tention, for  it  is  only  the  dull  of  wit  or  the 
inattentive  that  need  ask  many  questions,  or 
who  fail  to  picture  the  whole  from  a  small 
part.  I  quickly  put  two  and  two  together. 
The  mountain  then  was  hollow,  an  extinct 
volcano  with  a  sulphurous  crater,  from  his 
mentioning  the  Yellow  Lake,  a  lake  cold 
and  of  unfathomable  depth,  shores  of  run 
lava  ;  in  fact,  a  great  vault  of  blackness  with 
a  bright  circle  of  light  away  on  high,  through 
which  the  sun  each  day  would  shoot  a  million 
shafts  of  sweetening  light  into  the  bowels  of 
the  mountain,  a  fan  of  brightness  that  would 
travel  slowly  round  the  lake  as  the  sun  pro- 
ceeded on  its  course.  This  strange  shore 
must  be  reached  by  some  tunnel  through  the 
roots  of  the  mountain,  worn  doubtless  by  waters 
that  had    run  for   ages.    Such  a  supposition 


42     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

would  explain  the  canoe  trip  of  the  morning 
into  the  mountain,  and  the  flambeau  at  the 
prow  to  light  the  craft  on  its  way.  A  strange 
place,  indeed,  for  a  maker  of  gods  to  betake 
himself  to, an  inhospitable  shore  it  must  be.and 
cold,  gloomy,  eerie,  and  silent.  Before  a 
man  would  exile  himself,  the  necessity  surely 
must  be  great.  Consumed  with  impatience 
to  know  what  had  caused  the  estrangement 
between  the  village  and  its  craftsman,  I 
was  on  the  point  of  putting  a  question  to 
him  when  he  abruptly  changed  the  subject. 

"  I  had  a  short  time  at  my  disposal,  to- 
day." I  now  report  him  liberally,  "  and  em- 
ployed it  by  making  out  for  you  a  set  of 
key-words  to  the  language  of  this  Thorp, 
using  your  alphabet  and  giving  each  word 
its  meaning  in  your  tongue  " — here  he  handed 
me  a  scroll — "with  this  vocabulary  you  will 
soon  know  our  language." 

After  thanking  him  for  his  trouble  and 
thoughtfulness,  we  sat  down  with  flagons  at 
our  elbows  and  pipes  in  our  mouths  and 
fell  to  talking  of  the  world,  and  although 
inquisitiveness  gnawed  at  my  heart,  I  was 
glad  enough  to  tell  him  of  my  travels,  for 
next   to    hearing    gossip,    a    packman    loves 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     43 

himself  to  gossip.  I  told  him  of  the  Christian 
lands,  and  he,  growing  enthusiastic  over  his 
art,  avowed  that  he  had  a  mind  to  journey 
thither  and  show  the  people  what  serviceable 
gods  he  could  make  for  a  reasonable  return  ; 
and  verily,  I  believe  he  could  do  a  thriv- 
ing trade,  for  they  are  queer  people  the 
Christians,  and  eternally  squabbling  among 
themselves  as  to  which  of  the  innumerable 
sects  of  them  has  the  true  conception  of  the 
attributes,  elasticity,  energy  and  power  of  a 
God  of  whom  they  have  not  so  much  as  a 
picture  or  clay  figure.  My  young  friend,  on 
the  other  hand,  could  assuredly  make  them 
a  god  about  which  there  would  be  no 
shadow  of  doubt.  I  told  him  that  they  are 
a  rich  people,  and  given  to  running  after  new 
gods.  So  we  ^at  talking  late  into  the  night. 
When  at  last'  I  arose  to  go,  the  maker  of 
gods  also  got  upon  his  feet,  and  donning 
his  cap  and  heavy  outer  garments,  gathered 
into  his  arms  a  great  bundle  of  things  that 
stood  ready — rugs,  blankets,  cooking  imple- 
ments and  such  like,  some  of  which,  indeed, 
he  asked  me  to  carry  for  him,  and  we  quitted 
the  house  together.  Outside,  he  pulled  the 
door     to,    carefully    pushed     the    latch-string 


44     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

until  it  fell  inside,  and  taking  a  piece  of  red 
chalk  from  his  pocket,  he  drew  on  a  polished 
panel  of  the  door  a  large  circle  and  then  two 
heavy  lines  underneath.  This,  he  informed 
me,  was  the  sacred  sign  of  privacy  which  all 
were  in  honour  bound  to  heed.  With  that 
sign  on  the  door  none  would  molest  the 
place,  and  none  would  dare  to  blot  the  sign 
from  the  door  save  only  him  who  placed  it 
there.  The  chalk-marks  to  his  satisfaction, 
we  made  our  way  down  to  the  stream  where 
his  canoe,  deeply  fraught,  floated  to  its 
moorings,  and  I  saw  him  disappear  with  a 
flourish  of  his  paddle  into  the  deep  darkness 
that  hung  around  the  foundations  of  the 
mountain. 


CHAPTER  IV 

When  the  sun  had  reached  the  appointed 
height,  next  morning,   I,   as    in    duty  bound, 
betook  myself  to  the  house  of  the  father,  and, 
now  familiar  with  the  custom  of  the  Thorp 
(on  this  one  particular  at  least),  I   pulled  the 
latch-string,  and  at  once  ushered  myself  into 
the  room  in   which    on    the    previous    day  I 
had    been    so    kindly  received.     I   found   the 
father  seated  in  the  same  chair,  but,  instead  of 
the  woe-begone  expression  on   his  face,  there 
was  an  air  of  bustle  and  business  which  per- 
vaded the  very  room.     Before  him  on  the  table 
were  rolls  of  parchment,  and  on  one  or  two 
sheets  which  lay  open  I  saw  columns  of  figures 
which   I   guessed  to  be  the  town's  accounts. 
Forgetting   for  the   moment  that  I  could  not 
understand    his    tongue,  or    I    should    rather 
say  that   I   was   supposed    not  to  understand 
it,  although,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  had  studied 
assiduously  the  vocabulary    that    the  maker 

45 


46     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

of  gods  had  made  for  me,  the  father  gave 
me  a  dignified  and  kindly  welcome,  naming 
me,  I  made  out,  the  Stranger  Within  the 
Gates.  Our  salaams  ended,  I  took  from  my 
breast  the  epistle  that  had  been  given  to  my 
charge,  and  handed  it  to  the  old  man.  He 
took  it,  gazed  in  wonderment  at  the  address 
and  then  at  me  before  nervously  breaking  the 
seal  and  reading  the  document.  I  watched 
him  narrowly,  and  as  his  eye  ran  over  line 
after  line  a  look  of  hopeless  consternation 
came  into  his  chubby  face.  And  when  he 
had  finished,  the  missive  slipped  from  his 
fingers  and  fluttered  limply  to  the  floor,  while 
the  old  man  clutched  the  table  and  gasped  for 
breath.  Frightened  lest  he  might  be  about  to 
have  a  stroke,  or  some  other  dire  visitation, 
I  made  for  his  side,  crying  aloud  for  assistance 
as  I  ran.  But  before  I  could  lay  hands  to  help 
him,  he  recovered  a  little  and  motioned  me 
back.  The  blood  that  had  mounted  to  his  face 
fell  again  into  its  proper  channels,  leaving  him 
pale  and  his  brow  purflewed  with  beads  of 
perspiration.  My  cries,  however,  were  not 
without  effect.  Before  I  had  well  ceased 
calling  for  assistance  a  door  flew  open,  and, 
bursting   upon    the   scene    like    an   embodied 


The  Gods  Give  Mv  Donkev  Wings     47 

tornado,  came  the  she-Samson,  demanding, 
as  I  took  it,  to  know  the  cause  of  the  hubbub. 
The  old  man's  eyes  turned  towards  her,  at  first 
with  their  accustomed  look  of  helplessness,  but 
gradually  kindling  into  a  blaze  of  fury  and 
indignation,  until,  overmastering  his  fears,  he 
jumped  upon  his  feet,  and  bringing  his  fist  upon 
the  table  with  a  rattle  that  caused  even  the 
Amazon  to  start,  began  to  pour  into  her  volley 
after  volley  of  verbal  grape  and  canister.  No 
doubt  in  the  harangue  he  intimated  to  her  the 
contents  of  the  letter.  But,  poor  soul  !  he  was 
poaching  on  his  wife's  preserves,  and  soon 
began  to  stammer  and  halt  for  words.  Con- 
fusion gradually  settling  upon  him,  he  weakened, 
and  finally  ceased  speaking  altogether.  The 
termagant,  who  had  stood  for  some  moments 
as  still  as  a  sfatue  glaring  down  upon  him, 
a  look  of  utter  contempt  on  her  masculine 
face,  presently  began  in  earnest.  She  stormed 
and  ramped  and  stamped ;  she  skirled  her 
words  out  like  wind  among  the  rocks,  her 
eyes  shot  a  million  javelins  of  angry  light  into 
his  soul,  she  scathed  him,  blighted  him, 
shrivelled  him  up,  cracked  him ;  she  lashed 
him  with  scorpions,  and  scourged  him  to  the 
bone ;  her  red  hands  played  around  his  white 


48     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

head  like  the  lightnings  around  a  mountain  top 
until  I  feared  for  his  life — and  mine.  The  gods 
protect  me  !  I  would  flay  flake  by  flake,  coat 
by  coat,  the  ashy  balloon  of  the  forest  hornet 
until  the  honey  and  the  eggs  showed  yellow  in 
the  air,  rather  than  draw  down  upon  my  head 
the  anger  of  this  termagant.  But  my  time  was  to 
come,  and  not  a  word  could  I  understand.  Would 
that  my  feelings  were  as  numb  as  my  ears 
were  unknowing.  She  whirled  on  me  abruptly, 
and  demanded  to  know  something — the  god  of 
chance  alone  could  tell  what  it  might  be.  I  could 
do  nothing  but  shake  my  head  at  her.  Again 
she  demanded,  and  again  I  shook  my  head. 
I  could  see  the  father  struggling  with  himself 
to  summon  up  courage  enough  to  tell  her  that 
I  could  understand  not  a  word  she  uttered  ; 
but  before  the  desirable  pitch  had  been 
reached,  it  was  too  late  to  save  my  skin.  A 
third  time  she  demanded,  and  the  ridiculous- 
ness of  the  situation  overcoming  my  usual 
restraint,  I  burst  into  a  broad  grin,  aggravating 
enough  under  the  circumstances,  I  have  no 
doubt.  The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  the 
termagant  flew  at  me  like  a  spit-fire  cat,  and 
the  next  instant  I  found  myself  whirled  through 
two  doors,  and  occupying  a  most  undignified 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     49 

position  on  top  of  a  rubbish  heap  in  the  middle 
of  the  street. 

I  glanced  up  and  down  to  see  whether  or 
no  anyone  had  noted  my  undignified  out- 
coming,  and  was  pleased  to  find  no  one 
looking  ;  pleased  indeed,  for  a  packman  can 
ill  afford  to  be  made  a  laughing-stock  of, 
if  he  is  to  do  a  driving  trade.  Woman  !  woman 
is — but  with  the  recollection  of  that  exit  fresh 
in  my  mind,  I  cannot  trust  myself  to  write  of 
woman.  I  felt  that  the  house  of  the  father  was 
no  place  for  me,  and  resolved  to  get  as  far 
away  from  the  abode  of  the  termagant  as  my 
legs  and  good  grazing  permitted.  I  will  risk 
most  things  for  a  friend,  but  again  show  myself 
to  that  shrew,  I  would  not  for  the  best  friend 
man  ever  had. 

Hastening  t<?  where  my  ass  was  tethered 
(for  I  longed  for  the  company  of  one  I  could 
trust  as  a  friend),  I  led  the  sad-visaged  beast 
away  toward  the  mountain,  and  while  she 
cropped  the  rich  grass  I  had  ample  time 
to  smooth  my  temper  and  to  turn  my  thoughts 
to  the  scene  of  my  mortification.  What  a 
sensation  the  epistle  from  the  maker  of  gods 
had  caused  !  First  the  father  in  a  fit  as  near  as 
might  be,  and  then  still  more  strange,  stung  to 


50     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

such  a  pitch  of  daring  that  he  actually  fell  to 
rating  the  termagant.  And  she  !  Why  should 
she  take  the  departure  of  the  maker  of  gods  so 
to  heart?  Little  she  cared  for  gods  or  men,  if 
I  may  judge  of  human  nature.  Yes  !  there  was 
more  than  clay  gods  behind  all  this.  Mystery 
on  mystery,  and  it  worried  me  sorely. 

Now  I  had  not  strayed  far  in  quest  of  grass 
for  my  donkey  and  silence  for  myself  before 
I  became  aware  of    a  strange  sound  on  the 
air,  a  sound  as  of  the  beating  of  many  pinions, 
and,    look    about    me    as    I    might,    I    could 
not  make  out  the  cause  of  this,  nor  indeed 
locate  the  direction  from  which  it  came.    The 
sound  loomed  and  rolled  and  fluttered  on  the 
morning    breeze,    seeming    to    come    at    one 
moment  from  the  sky,  and  at  the  next  from  the 
earth,  and    again   from   the  mountain.     That 
I   was    not    the  only  one  to    hear  I    quickly 
discovered,  for  in  gazing  about  me  to  divine 
the  occasion  of  the  strange  mellow  rumble,  I 
noted   that  every  goatherd    of    the  mountain 
and   every  tiller  of    the   soil,   near  and  afar, 
stood  alert  and  listening.  But  not  for  long.  Cast- 
ing away  their  implements,  and  leaving  their 
herds  to  wander  at  will,  the  toilers  and  herders 
set  out  helter-skelter  for  the  Thorp  as  fast 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     51 

as  their  legs  would  carry  them.  The  first  who 
passed  near  to  where  I  stood,  without  pausing 
for  a  moment  in  his  career,  motioned  me 
excitedly  to  follow,  and  becoming  thoroughly 
alarmed  at  the  noise  and  its  effects  upon  the 
people,  I  bestrode  my  donkey,  and,  gathering 
up  my  legs  to  clear  my  feet  of  the  ground, 
nailed  the  beast  into  a  gallop  towards  the 
Thorp.  We  soon  fell  in  with  the  mass  of  the 
people — men,  women,  and  children — all  making 
in  one  direction,  all  madly  jostling  and  elbow- 
ing to  be  first,  and  shouting  to  one  another  as 
they  ran,  and  a  uniform  look  of  blended  sur- 
prise, curiosity,  and  foreboding  on  their  faces. 
The  length  of  the  street  won,  we  turned  sharply 
to  the  left,  and  behind  the  houses — a  spot  I  had 
overlooked  in  my  rambles — we  came  upon  a 
roofless  amphitheatre  or  circus,  paved  with 
stone,  and  in  the  centre  of  this,  doing  duty 
as  an  ambo,  a  huge  circular  rock,  flat  on  top, 
and  mounted  by  steps  hewn  into  its  smooth 
side.  Around  this  ambo  were  placed  thirteen 
seats  of  stone.  Already  a  great  concourse 
of  people  had  gathered  beside  this  huge 
boulder  and  were  waiting,  the  men  with  heads 
bare  and  the  women  with  children  in  their  arms, 
and  many  were   shouting   to   each  other,  but 


52     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

ineffectually,  for  the  strange  sound  that  had 
startled  me  on  the  mountain  now  became  well- 
nigh  deafening  in  its  intensity.  Indeed,  it  so 
pervaded  the  place  that  some  time  passed 
before  I  discovered  that  I  was  standing  quite 
close  to  the  whole  cause  of  the  ominous  sound. 
A  great  drum,  or  it  might  better  be  described 
as  a  tank,  made  of  staves  and  sheepskin,  and 
this  suspended  from  a  gallows,  by  thongs 
of  raw  hide,  half  a  man's  stature  clear  of  the 
ground,  and  at  opposite  sides  of  it  two  men 
stood,  their  coats  thrown  aside,  their  shirt- 
sleeves rolled  up,  and  perspiration  running 
down  their  cheeks  and  chests,  as  with  mono- 
tonous precision  of  intervals  they  swung  heavy 
mauls,  and  brought  them  crashing  against  the 
side  of  the  drum.  At  every  beat  of  this  drum  a 
great  black  blotch  of  sound  flew  out  and  over 
the  countryside  ;  a  muffled,  hollow,  deafening 
boom  that  shuddered  on  the  air,  an  ominous 
roll  of  solemn  sound  pervading  the  earth  and 
sky  like  a  shadow  for  leagues  and  leagues.  It 
oppressed  my  soul,  this  spirit  of  portentous 
sound  ;  it  worked  upon  my  nerves  until  I  was 
fain  to  clap  my  palms  over  my  ears,  and 
my  sober  ass,  who  up  to  this  moment,  with 
enviable  unreason  had  never  displayed  concern 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     53 

at  any  of  the  works  of  the  gods  or  of  men, 
turned  tail  and  galloped  away  from  me. 

As  soon  as  this  horrible  thunder  had  worn 
on  me  so  that  I  might  pay  attention  to  other 
things  than  the  saving  of  my  eardrums  from 
splitting,  I  looked  about  me,  and  made  sure 
from  the  manner  in  which  those  assembled 
gazed  upon  the  drum  that  the  beating  of  it 
was  a  most  uncommon  occurrence.  Many 
of  the  younger  men  and  women  watched  the 
beating  of  the  drum  in  a  way  that  showed 
them  to  be  completely  ignorant  of  the  opera- 
tion and  its  effects.  Truly  to  hear  the  alarm 
once  would  last  a  man  his  lifetime.  But  it 
was  towards  the  stone  that  I  directed  my 
attention.  On  the  top  of  it  stood  the  father, 
his  hat  off  and  his  grey  hair  gently  rising  and 
falling  on  the  zephyrs,  like  seaweed  in  the 
swell  of  an  ocean.  His  face  bore  upon  it  a 
grave  look,  and  he  stood  there  as  still  as  the 
rock  itself.  Dignified  he  certainly  did  appear 
in  his  exalted  place,  and  at  ease  too,  probably 
because  the  virago  was  not  within  touching 
distance  of  him.  On  the  thirteen  stone  seats 
ranged  around  this  strange  pulpit  sat  the 
elders — grave,  reverend  patriarchs  each  one — 
with  long    white  beards  and    striking    faces. 


54     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

The  booming  of  the  drum  continued  for  a 
maddening  time,  so  long  indeed  that  I  wished 
I  had  not  been  in  such  a  hurry  in  leaving  the 
mountain  ;  but  at  last  its  sable  wing  ceased 
to  beat  the  air,  although  for  days  after  it  still 
beat  in  the  recesses  of  my  brain. 

I  should  tell,  before  going  further  with  my 
tale,  that  in  a  favourable  position  for  hearing 
and  seeing  stood  the  women  in  a  group,  and 
nearest  to  the  stone  I  espied  the  termagant 
surrounded  by  a  favoured  few,  while  at  the 
very  outside  my  eye  quickly  singled  out  the 
little  lady  of  the  raven  hair,  the  wench  I 
had  seen  with  the  maker  of  gods  when  he  so 
abruptly  passed  out  of  the  father's  house.  May 
the  gods  give  my  donkey  wings  if  she  did  not 
look  a  roguish  lass,  with  her  rosy  lips  pursed 
coquettishly,  partly  in  scorn  and  partly  in 
laughter,  and  those  black  eyes  of  hers  flashing 
fire  in  all  directions.  And  when  her  glance  fell 
on  me,  the  gods  bear  me  witness  she  broke  into  a 
golden  smile,  and  gave  me  the  pleasantest,  in- 
dependent diverting  nod  of  her  jet  head,  the 
little  body,  that  caused  all  the  people  to  turn 
and  look  at  me.  Whatever  the  others  were 
thinking  about,  or  whatever  forebodings  they 
entertained,  this    dainty    thing  was  chiruppy 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     55 

and  confident.  For  of  all  partisans,  a  woman  is 
the  best.  When  she  espouses  a  man's  cause,  he 
may  know  he  has  one  supporter  who  will  go 
to  any  length,  and  will  stick  by  him  through 
good  report  and  evil.  If  he  be  in  the  right,  and 
equally  sure  if  he  be  in  the  wrong,  she  is  stead- 
fast to  the  end.  Then  again  she  seldom  fears, 
and  never  despairs.  When  on  more  or  less 
unsubstantial  ground  she  takes  a  side,  does 
it  ever  cross  her  buoyant  little  brain  that  her 
claimant  can  be  beaten?  Of  course  it  does 
not.  Even  when  a  verdict  has  been  given 
against  him,  she  knows  he  will  triumph  in 
the  long  run.  Why  I  have  never  married  a 
neat  little  wife  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  I 
have  met  so  many  in  my  time,  especially 
comfortable  widows,  that— well  it  may  be  the 
explanation  is  that  I  have  met  so  many. 
Looking  at  the  little  lady  it  occurred  to  me 
then  that  maybe  she  knew  a  great  deal  more 
than  most  of  us  about  the  matter  that  had 
caused  the  gathering.  As  she  stood  there 
tapping  the  stones  with  her  tiny  foot,  I  saw 
that  although  they  stood  apart  from  her,  not  a 
few  of  the  younger  women,  and  a  great  many  of 
the  younger  men,  cast  kindly  glances  in  her 
direction.     As  for  myself— but  I  had  better  say 


56     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

nothing,  for  I  am  such  a  susceptible  old  fool  of 
a  bachelor. 

When  it  was  seen  that  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Thorp  were  gathered  around  the  ambo, 
when  the  last  goatherd  from  the  mountain, 
the  tiller  of  the  soil,  the  driver  of  the  yoked 
ox,  the  last  he  and  the  last  she  had  arrived  and 
stood  expectant,  the  father  arose  to  tell  why 
they  had  all  been  called  from  their  toil. 
He  <began  slowly,  and  if  I  judged  aright,  his 
language  was  terse  and  simple.  That  his  words 
were  enunciated  with  great  distinctness,  I  am  a 
witness,  for  even  I,  unused  to  the  langag  e, 
was  able  to  catch  a  large  number  of  words 
which  appeared  in  the  vocabulary  the  maker  of 
gods  had  given  me.  He  spoke  but  a  few 
sentences  before  drawing  from  his  breast  the 
letter  I  had  carried  to  him  earlier  in  the  day. 
The  purport  of  his  address  (I  guessed  partly 
from  words  I  understood,  but  in  a  greater 
degree  from  the  actions  and  demeanour  of  the 
father  himself  and  his  listeners)  was  to  the 
effect  that  he  had  dire  news  for  the  bailiwick, 
that  a  trial  lay  before  them  all,  and  it  being 
a  matter  which  concerned  the  dignity  of  the 
Thorp,  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  place  at  once 
the  whole  facts  of  the  case  before  the  people 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     57 

assembled.  That  he  thought  the  matter  of  the 
gravest,  both  his  looks  and  the  extraordinary 
action  he  had  taken  must  bear  witness.  This 
said,  he  read  the  epistle  from  the  maker  of  gods, 
reading  sentence  by  sentence,  and  pausing 
frequently  to  allow  every  word  to  sink  into 
the  memories  of  the  people.  During  the  first 
part  of  the  letter  the  people  listened  attentively, 
but  at  last  a  sentence  roused  them  to  fury.  An 
ominous  growl  went  up,  and  the  auditors 
looked  in  consternation  at  one  another.  The 
sentence  which  excited  the  resentment  closed 
the  epistle,  and  so  that  the  people  should  be 
without  a  shadow  of  doubt  as  to  its  meaning  and 
import,  the  father  repeated  it  slowly.  I  strained 
my  ears  as  he  read,  and,  strangely  enough, — 
unless,  as  I  have? since  thought,  it  was  inten- 
tional on  the  part  of  the  maker  of  gods, — every 
word  of  the  sentence  was  full  of  meaning  to 
me,  two  only  excepted.  But  those  two  were 
the  key-words,  bother  take  them!  The  sentence, 
liberally  translated,  ran:  "I  state  this  as  my 
ultimatum  to  you  and  the  people  of  my  Thorp: 

You  will  give  me  my ,  and  I  will  deliver  up 

to  you  and  the  elders  your " 

Most  aggravating  !     I  pulled  the  scroll  from 
my  breast  and  ran  my  eye  carefully  down  the 


58     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

list  of  words,  but  neither  of  those  I  sought 
appeared  in  the  parchment.  But  I  held,  with 
the  mental  grip  of  a  packman,  the  two  words 
so  that  I  might  discover  their  meaning  at  the 
first  opportunity  that  offered.  The  first  roar 
of  astonishment  over,  I  caught  a  couple  of 
greybeards  near  me  exchanging  a  sly  wink  and 
nodding  their  heads  as  if  they  rather  enjoyed 
the  joke,  although  not  caring  to  do  so  openly; 
and  a  buxom  young  wench  near  me  burst  into  a 
giggle  which  she  instantly  attempted  to  strangle 
by  clapping  her  hand  over  her  mouth,  a  pro- 
ceeding not  altogether  successful,  for  an 
occasional  splutter  managed  to  squeeze  a  way 
out  between  her  tightly  clenched  fingers.  I 
glanced  at  the  group  of  noble  dames  who 
surrounded  the  termagant.  They  were  gesti- 
culating wildly,  while  the  centre  figure  stood 
towering  above  them  all,  serene,  a  look  on  her 
face,  a  set  to  her  figure  which  seemed  to  say, 
"What  but  such  base  treatment  could  we 
expect  from  the  likes  of  him!"  And  the  lady  of 
the  raven  hair?  Ah!  she  stood  in  the  same 
spot,  with  the  same  haughty  curl  of  lips, 
and  the  same  flashing  eye,  and  the  same 
exquisite  contempt  for  the  lot  of  them. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  first  part  of  the  letter  I  have  said  had 
been  received  with  equanimity.  The  with- 
drawal of  the  maker  of  gods,  and  a  probability 
of  a  short  crop  of  the  article  did  not  seem 
to  disturb  the  people  as  much  as  I  had  thought 
it  would.  The  last  part  of  the  letter  caused  the 
hubbub.  Hoping  to  learn  the  meaning  of  it 
all,  I  touched  on  the  shoulder  one  of  the  men 
who  stood  near  by ;  one  who  seemed  to  see 
considerable  humour  in  the  situation,  and  re- 
peated the  first  word  whose  meaning  I  could 
not  understand.  ^ The  good  fellow  admitted  that 
I  pronounced  the  word  correctly,  I  could  see 
that ;  but  his  face  and  gestures  expressed  his 
inability  to  convey  the  meaning  of  the  word 
to  my  mind.  But  when  I  pronounced  the 
second  word, — ah  yes !  he  could  enlighten  me 
as  to  its  meaning,  and  grinning  broadly  he 
pointed  to  his  breeches.  Seeing  my  look  of 
astonishment  and  doubt,  he  proceeded  to  take 
the  cloth  of  his  nether  garment  between  his 

59 


60     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

finger  and  thumb  to  show  me  that  it  was  really 
the  breeches  and  not  his  legs  he  meant.    "You 

give  me  my ,  and   I   will   give  you    your 

breeches  ! "  I  repeated  to  myself,  craning  my 
neck  for  a  good  survey.  The  elders  looked 
glum  enough  in  all  conscience,  but  assuredly 
the  maker  of  gods  had  not  gone  off  with  their 
breeches,  for  they  were  fully  clothed.  Breeches ! 
it  could  not  be  breeches,  for  clearly  it  was  a 
matter  that  concerned  both  women  and  men.  I 
asked  the  man  again,  and  again  got  the  same 
reply,  this  time  substantiated  by  one  or  two 
who  stood  about  me.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
doubt  about  the  matter,  although  head  or  tail  of 
the  business  the  gods  knew  well  I  could  not 
make.  It  was  a  matter  to  be  reasoned  out 
as  soon  as  possible.  But  my  speculations  were 
cut  short  by  one  of  the  patriarchs  standing  up 
in  his  place,  and  in  a  terse  speech  proposing  a 
course  of  action.  His  suggestion,  whatever  it 
might  be,  was  received  with  acclamation,  and 
the  father  being  appealed  to,  and  signifying  his 
consent,  the  concourse  broke  up  to  the  sound  of 
three  beats  on  the  great  drum. 

I  thought  the  business  was  done  with,  for 
the  time  at  least,  but  in  this  I  was  mistaken. 
For  as  if  with  one  accord,    the    majority  of 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     61 

the  people  set  out  towards  the  stream,  the 
patriarch  who  had  spoken  leading  the  way. 
Now  it  had  been  my  intention  to  take  my 
pack  and  call  at  the  houses  of  the  people  to 
do  a  little  m,the  way  of  trade  on  this  after- 
noon, for  already  I  had  idled  more  time  than 
a  packman  can  well  afford,  but  this  gather- 
ing upset  all  idea  of  trade.  The  people  were 
much  too  excited  to  buy.  So  I  resolved  to 
leave  my  wares  where  they  were,  and  follow 
the  crowd.  Particular  man  that  I  am,  and 
fond  of  knowing  the  whole  of  any  matter, 
the  fact  that  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  I 
possessed  the  right  word  in  "breeches,"  and 
still  was  unable  to  make  sense  out  of  the  mes- 
sage, plagued  me  more  than  I  can  tell.  And 
what  a  pother  ?the  people  were  in  about  those 
breeches  !  The  bailiwick  by  the  breeches  had 
been  set  by  the  ears. 

As  I  brooded  on  the  matter  we  reached 
the  stream,  and  here  I  found  a  flotilla  of 
canoes  ready  to  start,  their  bows  pointed 
towards  the  mountain.  There  was  little  of 
bustle  or  excitement,  but  men  with  expressions 
of  great  earnestness  were  taking  positions  in 
the  canoes,  ready  to  dip  paddle  and  away  when 
the  signal  should  be  given.    They  took  with 


62     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

them  no  weapons,  but  this  was  not  surprising 
for  they  were  many,  and  the  maker  of  gods 
but  one.  Some  one  had  brought  a  great  coat  of 
sheepskin  which  the  patriarch  now  donned, 
and  made  slowly  towards  the  first  canoe.  Hav- 
ing already  experienced  their  uniform  kindness 
to  a  stranger,  and  being  invested  with  a  pack- 
man's share  of  audacity,  and  the  delectable 
flames  of  curiosity  burning  within  my  heart, 
I  wilfully  placed  myself  in  the  old  man's  way. 
As  I  expected,  he  paused  to  address  a  few 
courteous  words  to  me,  which  words,  I  say  it 
without  blushes,  I  pretended  to  regard  as  an 
invitation,  and  you  may  be  sure,  acting  my 
part  well,  I  thanked  him,  and  before  anyone 
could  protest  stepped  into  the  canoe.  At  this 
the  patriarch  looked  helplessly  at  me,  but  at 
length  he  gathered  his  robes  about  him  and 
took  the  seat  that  had  been  prepared  for  him, 
and  we  were  on  our  way  towards  the  mountain. 
It  was  clear  that  the  young  man  in  the  moun- 
tain had  made  no  attempt  to  keep  his  hiding- 
place  a  secret,  for  not  a  moment  had  been 
spent  in  search  or  speculation,  and  already  we 
were  headed  in  his  direction.  This  seemed 
inexplicable  to  me,  for  the  force  now  afloat  was 
large  enough  to  overcome  the  strongest  man, 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     63 

and  my  young  artist  must  soon  be  laid  by  the 
heels  and  brought  back  to  the  Thorp. 

When  we  reached  the  rock  by  which  I  had 
sat  on  the  previous  morning  and  spoken  to 
the  maker  Of -gods,  one  of  the  paddlers  passed 
to  me  a  goatskin  rug,  at  the  same  time  motion- 
ing me  to  put  it  over  my  shoulders.  The  bow- 
man had  on  our  upward  journey  fastened  a 
huge  flambeau  to  the  prow  of  the  canoe,  and  he 
now  set  it  alight,  a  great  liquid  light  it  made, 
spluttering  and  splashing  sops  of  flame  into  the 
bottom  of  the  canoe  at  each  gust  of  the  moun- 
tain air.  Once  round  the  sharp  bend  we  saw 
the  mountain  rise  before  us  into  the  clouds,  like 
a  giant  bursting  through  the  earth's  crust,  and 
ten  canoe-lengths  ahead  yawned  a  great  cavern, 
black,  mysterious,  and  over  the  lip  of  it  the 
waters  ran  lapping  and  oily.  Now  running 
water,  unless  it  be  quite  in  the  open,  is  a  horror 
to  me.  More  especially  is  this  so  in  the  dark. 
The  lap  of  water  about  submerged  timbers,  the 
trickle  of  it  under  a  floor,  the  swirl  of  it  as  it 
shoots  the  arches  of  a  bridge,  sets  my  flesh 
crawling,  while  all  the  time  exercising  a  fear- 
some fascination  for  me, — the  fascination  of 
a  serpent's  eye  for  a  bird.  In  all  conscience, 
here  was  the  very  thing  to  fill  me  with  dread. 


64     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

The  water  ran  with  ominous  swirls  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  cavern,  the  jagged  rocks  looked 
for  all  the  world  like  gigantic  moulders  and 
grinders,  and  from  the  black  throat  of  the 
mountain  issued  a  sullen  rumble  like  to  the 
growl  of  a  hungry  ogre.  To  tell  the  truth — (a 
luxury  in  trade,  but  not  so  rarely  met  with 
outside  of  business) — to  tell  the  truth,  I  began 
to  repent  of  my  coming,  and  to  wish  I  had  not 
been  quite  so  forward  in  forcing  myself  into  the 
canoe.  But  it  was  clearly  too  late  to  turn  back, 
for  in  we  drove,  our  flambeau,  which  outside 
had  seemed  to  languish,  now  bursting  into 
brilliant  flame,  and  flashing  its  light  against 
quaintly-shaped  rocks  and  sullen  black  waters. 
Herculean  pillars  stood  waist-deep  in  the  water, 
and  balanced  on  their  heads  the  mountain  of 
rock  and  earth  and  everlasting  snows  ;  arches  of 
rock  sprung  from  all  sides  of  us  in  ranks  so 
lofty  that  the  vertexes  were  lost  in  darkness ; 
from  on  high  round  drops  of  water,  ice-cold 
and  heavy,  fell  upon  our  heads  or  struck  the 
stream  on  which  we  floated  with  a  metallic 
spat.  Huge  bats,  and  thousands  of  them, 
fretful  of  the  light,  flapped  about  us  like 
witches  in  a  gale  and  fanned  our  cheeks  with 
their  wings ;  and,  it  might  have  been  that  my 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     65 

nerves  were  overwrought,  I  saw,  or  thought  I 
saw,  which  is  quite  as  gruesome,  a  score  of 
slimy  monsters  wallowing  near  our  canoe, 
rising  and  falling  with  the  run  of  the  stream. 
These  may  have  been  born  of  a  fevered 
imagination;  I  would  not  like  to  deny  that 
such  was  the  case.  But  that  of  which  there 
could  be  no  question,  for  it  dominated  the 
whole  place,  was  the  muffled  roar  that  I  had 
heard  even  before  entering  the  jaws  of  the 
mountain. 

Here,  inside,  the  rumbling  growl  made  the 
very  waters  to  heave,  and  the  air  to  pant,  and 
the  foundations  of  the  mountain  to  rock.  It 
affected  me,  I  imagine,  much  as  if  I  were 
cooped  inside  the  great  drum  while  the  Thorp- 
men  smote  with  their  mauls.  For  the  second  time 
this  day  my  nerves  were  being  smitten  with 
sounds,  and  as  we  slowly  proceeded  among  the 
sunken  rocks,  I  soon  found  my  brain  in  such  a 
shattered  state  that  I  grasped  the  side  of  the 
canoe  with  both  hands  and  cried  aloud,  I 
felt  sure,  although  I  heard  no  sound  come  from 
my  lips.  After  a  time  I  found  myself  looking 
at  the  dark  waters,  and  thinking  what  a  relief 
it  would  be  to  slip  over  the  side  of  the  canoe, 
and    under    the    palpitating    stream  to  enjoy 


66     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  silence  that  might  be  found  away  in  its 
depths,  and  to  escape  the  demon  that  roared 
from  the  cavern.  Indeed,  I  began  to  fidget 
and  to  stare  about  me  for  an  opportunity  to 
take  the  plunge  ;  but,  fortunately,  before  my 
fears  quite  overpowered  me,  the  explanation  of 
the  commotion  was  forthcoming.  It  was  simple 
enough,  and  natural  too  ;  and  if  I  had  not  been 
stupid  from  my  morning's  excitement,  I  might 
have  guessed  it  even  at  the  ingate  of  the 
cavern. 

Our  men  had  for  some  time  been  paddling 
with  long,  strong  sweeps,  for  here  the  water 
ran  braided  and  fast,  carrying  on  its  breast 
hosts  of  dancing  bubbles,  which  caught  from 
our  flambeau  many  lights,  and  burned  fairy 
fires  to  our  honour  as  they  passed.  Towards 
a  narrow  gap  we  headed,  the  perspiration 
running  down  the  paddlers'  faces,  and  the 
canoe  shuddering  inch  by  inch  against  the 
foaming  flood,  creeping  and  trembling  as 
though  itself  in  fear  of  the  horrible  roar,  and 
after  an  anxious  time  it  nosed  between  the 
rocks,  and  the  bowman,  grasping  a  jagged 
point,  with  a  grand  pull  swept  us  through. 
My  jaw  fell  in  astonishment.  For  I  found 
myself    in    a  cathedral-like    cavity  of    virgin 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     67 

rock,  fluted  in  places  after  the  manner  of  an 
organ,  and  so  high  that  the  light  from  our 
flambeau  failed  to  show  us  the  roof.  Around 
us  all  was  black,  except  only  in  one  part  of 
the  cavity.  Over  against  our  entrance-place  I 
saw  a  marvellous  sight.  A  great  curtain  of 
snowy  white  fell  out  of  the  upper  vastness,  and 
beat  the  water  into  a  billow  of  foam  ;  a  waterfall 
from  the  everlasting  snows  above,  it  was,  which 
fell  through  a  crevice  in  the  shoulder  of  the 
mountain,  fell,  it  must  have  been,  a  half  a 
league  in  its  course,  carded  to  the  whiteness  of 
wool  by  the  jagged  teeth  of  rock,  and  waters 
smote  upon  waters  with  the  sound  of  rolling 
thunder.  The  cavern  was  a  great  sound-board, 
the  home  of  thunders.  Truly,  in  all  my 
wanderings,  never  had  I  seen  such  an  awe- 
inspiring  sight  ;  in  lands  distant  or  near  to 
hand,  nothing  so  weirdly  awful  as  this  labora- 
tory of  the  hoarse  voice  of  waters.  The  splut- 
tering torch  in  the  blackness,  the  white  head  of 
the  elder,  the  reeking  oarsmen,  the  resounding 
walls,  the  great  bank  of  dazzling  whiteness,  the 
maddening  sound  of  many  waters,  these  formed 
a  picture  so  quaintly  frightful  that  I  could  do 
nothing  but  grasp  the  sides  of  the  craft  and 
squeeze  until  the  blood  started  from  my  finger- 


68     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

tips,  which  I  discovered  to  my  sorrow  later  in 
the  day. 

Our  canoe  slowly  skirted  the  cavern  wall, 
keeping  as  far  from  the  foot  of  the  fall  as 
feasible,  for  there  the  water  seethed  and  boiled 
and  swirled  in  a  dangerous  way,  whereas  it 
swung  sullen  and  silent  around  the  walls.  The 
boatmen  exercised  the  greatest  caution  in  this 
part  of  the  journey  ;  and  I  noticed  that  they 
were  making  for  an  aperture  in  the  wall,  which 
opened  as  nearly  as  might  be  directly  opposite 
to  our  entrance-gash.  This  reached, — we  were 
too  near  to  the  falling  waters  to  please  me, 
I  know, — the  man  in  the  prow  motioned  to  me 
to  bow  my  head,  for  the  aperture  was  so  small, 
and  the  rocks  so  closely  overhung  the  water, 
that  I  realised  it  would  be  impossible  for  us  to 
enter  except  we  doubled  our  heads  to  our 
knees.  I  had  just  done  so,  and  we  were  pre- 
pared to  shoot  out  of  this  horrible  cavern,  when 
the  sudden  stopping  of  the  canoe  caused  us  all 
to  straighten  our  backs  again.  There  we  saw  the 
bowman  on  his  knees,  with  one  hand  held  up 
in  a  position  of  warning,  while  with  the  other 
he  had  grasped  a  jag  of  the  rock,  and  so 
prevented  the  canoe  from  entering  the  aperture. 
In  this  position  he  peered  into  the  darkness 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     69 

ahead,  as  though  to  make  sure  that  his  eyes 
were  not  playing  him  false,  until  the  patriarch 
touched  him  inquiringly  on  the  shoulder.  Then 
he  turned,  his  eyes  starting  from  his  head,  and 
pointing  into  the  black  hole,  shouted  a  short 
statement  into  the  ears  of  the  old  man.  At  this 
the  canoe  was  whirled  around  until  it  lay  broad- 
side to  the  opening,  and  the  torch  held  in 
position  for  the  patriarch  himself  to  make  an 
examination.  I  saw  him  look  for  a  brief  space 
of  time,  then  jerk  his  head  so  suddenly  that 
the  back  of  it  came  as  near  as  possible  to  catch- 
ing me  on  the  nose,  for  I  had  been  peering  over 
his  shoulder  in  my  anxiety  to  learn  what  had 
startled  the  bowman.  The  patriarch's  eye, 
though  old,  had  yet  the  keen  vision  of  the 
mountain  eagle, 'and  had  sighted  the  object 
before  my  eyes  had  become  accustomed  to  the 
place.  The  canoe  still  retaining  its  position,  I 
again  gazed  into  the  hole,  and  this  time  got  an 
eerie  fright.  For  there,  at  my  very  nose,  a 
horrible  grin  on  its  distorted  features,  its  one 
eye  sparkling,  and  its  two  rows  of  ragged  teeth 
gleaming  in  the  light,  hung  a  gigantic  cast  of 
the  face  of  the  god  of  disaster.  The  reason  I 
had  not  seen  it  at  a  glance  was  that  I  had 
trained  my  eye  to  look  far  ahead,  little  thinking 


70     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

that  the  object  was  so  near  at  hand.  When  the 
paddlers  sighted  this  horrible  face  they  began 
to  back  our  canoe  away,  but  again  the 
bowman  motioned  the  men  this  time  to  hold 
their  paddles,  and,  the  canoe  steady,  he  stood 
erect,  picked  something  from  a  point  of  a  rock, 
and  at  once  passed  it  to  the  patriarch.  It 
proved  to  be  a  parchment,  which,  holding  it  so 
that  the  capricious  light  fell  upon  the  writing, 
the  old  man  proceeded  to  read,  first  to  himself, 
and  then,  as  I  took  it  aloud,  although  not  a 
word  could  I  hear  for  the  thunder  of  the  waters. 
But  hear  or  not,  I  made  a  shrewd  guess  at  the 
contents.  My  maker  of  gods  knew  well  with 
whom  he  had  to  deal.  Superstition  would  suit 
his  purpose  better  than  force  or  flight,  for 
superstition  costs  nothing,  and  breaks  no  bones. 
He,  the  holder  of  their  secrets,  the  moulder  of 
their  gods,  the  receptacle  of  all  their  legends 
and  credulities,  had  turned  this  knowledge  to 
account  to  prevent  the  coming  at  him  of  the 
expedition,  which  otherwise  he  would  have 
had  to  defeat  by  force.  There  hung  the  hide- 
ous face  of  the  god  of  disaster.  Behind  it,  I 
had  little  doubt,  swung  the  black  countenance 
of  death. 

The  parchment  message  was  quickly  passed 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     71 

from  canoe  to  canoe,  and  caused  a  great  com- 
motion, I  could  see.  One  or  two  inquisitive 
crews  steered  their  crafts  towards  the  opening 
to  satisfy  themselves  that  matters  were  as  re- 
ported, which  verily  they  seemed  to  do  to  their 
taste,  for  they  paddled  away  much  faster  than 
they  had  made  for  the  spot.  The  crafts  floated 
in  a  huddle  like  frightened  waterfowl ;  and 
when  the  patriarch  gave  the  signal  to  return, 
relief  was  evident  in  every  face.  Now  having 
come  thus  far  and  braved  the  frights  and 
dangers  of  the  subterranean  passage,  I  felt  an- 
noyed that  the  old  fellow  allowed  his  super- 
stitions to  turn  him  back.  I  had  by  this  time 
become  accustomed  to  the  sounds  and  the 
darkness,  and  would  have  given  an  ell  of  my 
finest  lace  to  gaze  upon  the  Yellow  Lake  and 
the  hollow  mountain  with  its  tea-pot  lid  of  sky. 
The  crafty  young  rascal  !  He  had  put  his  gods 
to  alien  uses.  But  it  is  thus  all  the  world  over. 
I  have  seen  it  time  and  time  again.  Those  who 
make  gods,  or  minister  to  gods ;  whose  especial 
duty  it  is,  as  it  is  their  profession,  to  serve  the 
gods,  they  and  theirs  are  the  first  to  put  to  base 
uses  those  same  gods  which  it  is  their  life's 
work  to  exalt.  The  Christians,  who  have  a 
wonderful  assortment  of  pertinent  saws  to  suit 


72     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

all  sides  of  any  question,  have  one  to  the  effect 
that  familiarity  procreates  vilipendency,  and 
verily  I  believe  those  peculiar  people  in  this. 
Even  the  gods  are  not  safe.  But  the  most 
trivial  god  I  have  found,  if  put  to  an  indignity, 
has  an  uncomfortable  way  of  showing  his  re- 
sentment, and  my  young  friend  must  have  re- 
gretted that  he  hung  this  god  of  disaster  all 
alone  in  the  blackness  above  the  sullen  waters 
that  flowed  from  the  Yellow  Lake  to  join  the 
floods  from  the  sky.  For  the  gods  have  nothing 
else  to  do  but  to  remember,  and  to  avenge.  Ap- 
probation of  praise  and  resentment  of  slight 
make  up  their  little  lives,  and  a  man  who  has 
many  things  to  think  of  should  be  careful  not 
to  draw  upon  himself  their  wrath.  The  gods 
have  much  time  on  their  hands.  I  thought  of 
this  many  times  in  the  tragic  days  that  followed. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Long  before  we  reached  the  Thorp  the 
people  met  us,  coming  at  a  great  rate  along  the 
goat-path  bordering  the  stream,  and  shouting 
to  us  as  we  came  in  sight.  The  news  spread 
rapidly  ;  and  when  I  passed  along  the  street  to 
the  house  of  my  kind  host,— for  I  was  wet  to  the 
skin  and  shivering  with  cold, — I  found  in  front 
of  every  house  the  little  drab  god  of  sorrow, 
hands  to  face  and  hair  hanging  dishevelled,  and 
the  goats  home?  from  the  mountain  gingerly 
threaded  their  way  between  the  clay  figures. 
By  the  time  I  had  made  the  necessary  change 
of  garments,  and  had  taken  a  good  swig  of  the 
mulled  brew  which  the  kind  hostess  had  pre- 
pared for  me,— schooled  in  the  way  of  women, 
I  had  taken  occasion  to  place  upon  her  head  a 
cap,  a  cheap  thing  but  jaunty,  and  it  made  the 
good-wife  wondrously  kind, — I  took  my  place 
on  the  bench  to  watch  the  evening  sun  set  fire 
to  the  ice  and  snow  on  the  mountain.  As  I 
gazed  at  the  towering  height,  I  could  not  but 

73 


74     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

think  of  the  enormous  mass  of  earth  and  ice  and 
rock,  full  of  roaring  waters,  sullen  lakes,  bats 
and  blackness,  and  away  inside  the  little  spark 
of  animated  clay,  the  puny  headstrong  thing 
called  man,  who,  wrapping  his  petty  dignities, 
troubles,  joys,  and  hopes  about  him,  had  hurried 
under  the  immortal  hills  to  spite  his  fellow 
gnats.  And  they,  angry  little  gnats,  how  they 
had  bravely  buzzed  after  him  until  they  had 
come  upon  a  bit  of  clay  moulded  somewhat 
after  their  own  image,  somewhat  after  the  shape 
that  had  been  most  familiar  to  them  since  their 
eyes  first  learned  to  know  the  smiles  of  their 
mothers,  and  knowing  the  shape  and  substance 
of  it  they  allowed  it  to  frighten  them  out  of 
their  common  sense.  They  had  fled,  frightened 
at  a  daub  of  clay.  The  quarrel,  I  realised,  lay 
between  mind  and  matter,  and  the  mind  was  in 
the  mountain. 

Thinking  on  small  things,  my  thoughts  nat- 
urally enough  turned  to  the  little  lady  with  the 
clear  eyes  and  black  hair  who  had  given  me 
such  a  roguish  nod  of  recognition  in  the  morn- 
ing. She  was  chirp  enough  and  laughing  before 
the  people,  would  her  buoyancy  continue  in  the 
privacy  of  her  own  house?  Would  not  the 
knowledge  that  her  sweetheart, — for  sweetheart 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     75 

I  had  no  doubt  he  must  be, — that  he  was  alone 
in  the  mountain,  cause  her  woman  soul  to  fear 
and  make  miserable  her  little  heart?  Maybe 
at  this  very  moment  her  hands  were  covering 
those  sparkling  eyes  of  hers,  and  the  tears 
trickling  through.  The  thought  made  me  un- 
comfortable, and  after  fidgeting  about  for  a 
time  and  trying  to  settle  myself  to  my  brew,  I 
gave  the  job  up  as  a  bad  one,  and  resolved  to 
walk  over  to  the  house  in  which  she  lived, — I 
had  not  gone  through  the  Thorp  with  my  eyes 
shut, — and  see  what  was  happening  to  her.  So 
taking  a  bit  of  lace  in  my  pocket, — for  young 
wenches  are  fond  of  lace, — I  made  my  way 
across  the  street,  and  pulling  the  latch-string 
stepped  into  the  entry.  Now  it  is  a  ticklish 
thing  this  walking  unannounced  into  the  abode 
of  a  pretty  lass  who  lives  alone,  and  having 
reached  the  age  when  a  man  can  bide  his  time, 
and  can  afford  to  show  some  consideration  to 
the  woman-folk,  which  no  fiery  young  spark 
will  do,  I  stood  in  the  outer  room  for  a  spell  of 
time  long  enough  to  allow  the  lass  to  give  her 
dress  a  bit  pull  here  and  a  ruffle  and  a  shake 
there,  and  to  cast  one  glance  at  her  neck-gear, 
of  which  maidens  in  all  climes  I  know  right 
well  are  more  than  ordinary  suspicious.     I  was 


76     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

confident  the  grace  thus  given  her  could  not 
have  been  ill  received,  for  I  heard  her  dainty 
feet  running  nimbly  about  putting  things  to 
rights.  When  the  footsteps  ceased,  I  entered 
and  found  her  sitting  there  demurely  composed 
— well  the  gods  fly  away  with  my  donkey  if  I 
could  do  anything  but  admire  the  art  of  the 
lady.  The  wench  sat  before  a  tapestry  assidu- 
ously plying  her  needle  at  a  border,  and  she 
looked  over  her  shoulder  at  me  as  though  she 
had  only  just  heard  me  enter.  Her  black  hair 
was  coiled  loosely,  and  the  end  of  the  strand 
stuck  coquettishly  over  her  ear  in  quite  a 
ridiculous  way.  Her  kerchief  was  knotted 
about  her  neck,  and  the  great  apron  she  wore 
fitted  her  like  a  charm.  When  she  looked  at 
me  her  eyes  sparkled  with  the  liquid  brilliancy 
of  diamonds,  and  her  cheeks  were  aglow  with 
rosy  colour,  for  it  is  invariably  the  black-haired 
witch  that  has  the  brightest  cheeks.  She  arose 
as  I  entered,  and  curtsied,  a  sedate,  tricky  little 
genuflection,  addressing  me  in  a  gentle  tone, 
although  mind  you,  as  like  as  not  it  was  some 
impudent  remark  she  made  to  me,  for  I  will  not 
trust  a  woman  who  is  aware  that  one  does  not 
know  what  she  is  saying— or  worse  still,  doing. 
But,  in  charity,  giving  her  credit  for  the  best,  I 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     77 

returned  a  greeting  in  my  own  tongue,  and 
drawing  up  a  stool  I  sat  down  opposite  her. 
There  was  a  twinkle  in  her  eye  as  she  turned  to 
and  began  plying  the  needle,  and  in  a  little 
while  her  under  lip  began  to  tremble  out  of 
very  devilment  I  know  ;  I  could  see  that  at 
times  her  sides  shook  under  the  merriment 
which  she  was  trying  to  keep  from  bursting  out 
upon  her  lips.  To  be  sure,  the  situation  was  a 
whit  comical.  I  could  not  speak  to  her  nor  she 
to  me,  but  the  little  minx  should  not  have  been 
thinking  of  that.  She,  there  in  comfort,  titter- 
ing and  bright,  and  her  lover  buried  in  the  heart 
of  a  mountain,  in  dankness,  dreariness,  and 
maybe  dismay,  making  his  bed  among  the  lava 
of  an  ancient  irolcano.  Had  I  been  a  maiden 
with  such  a  strapping  lad  courting  me,  egad  I'd 
have  been  in  a  state.  But  I  aver  as  I  sat  there 
looking  at  her  and  speculating  as  only  an  honest 
packman  can,  she,  the  body,  threw  her  dainty 
white  hands  into  the  air  and  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter,  so  long  continued  that,  although  I  was 
laughing  myself,  I  began  to  fear  for  the  safety 
of  her  ribs.  And  she  had  no  sooner  dried  her 
eyes  and  taken  one  squint  at  me  than  the  fit  was 
upon  her  again,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  over 
her  face  and  rocked  herself  in  the  chair  forward 


78     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

and  back,  while  I  sat  there  with  my  palms  one 
clapped  on  top  of  each  knee,  and  like  the  old 
fool  that  I  am,  I  joined  with  her  till  my  lungs 
were  sore.  It  was  some  time  before  we  came 
to  our  senses,  and  then  the  witch  seemed  con- 
cerned lest  I  should  take  my  welcome  as  being 
inhospitable,  and  she  brought  me  as  fine  a 
reaming  swig  as  I  ever  clapped  lips  to.  Faith, 
she  knew  good  liquor,  which  is  not  a  virtue  a 
man  of  experience  expects  of  a  woman.  The 
god  of  the  contraries  created  woman,  and  has 
looked  after  her  ever  since.  There  sat  I  and 
drank  the  brew  and  smacked  my  lips,  and 
watched  the  lass  ;  but  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  discern  the  smallest  trace  of  distress  in  her 
face,  nor  where  it  is  still  more  likely  to  discover 
itself,  in  her  movements,  for  woman  can  keep  a 
cheery  face  when  her  heart  is  the  sorest,  and 
even  when  hope  is  gone.  No,  the  little  lady 
was  merry  enough,  and  yet  I  could  not  believe 
she  had  a  callous  heart.  Maybe  it  was  her 
bravery,  or  maybe  she  knew  something  that 
others  did  not  ;  for  instance  that  the  maker  of 
gods  had  prepared  a  comfortable  home  for  him- 
self on  the  shores  of  the  silent  lake  ;  that  he  had 
made  many  journeys  to  the  spot,  taking  with  him 
on  each  occasion  necessities  and  even  comforts. 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     79 

So  I  took  the  bit  lace  from  my  pocket,  a  pretty 
pattern  it  was  that  had  been  given  me  to  induce 
me  to  buy,  and  so  cost  me  nothing  but  the  carry- 
ing, and  presenting  it  to  the  lass  took  my  de- 
parture when  the  joy  was  upon  her.  It  is  the 
way  I  have  to  ensure  a  warm  welcome  when  I 
again  return.  My  curiosity  was  increased  rather 
than  allayed  by  the  visit.  All  that  I  knew 
definitely  was  that  the  father  had  something 
that  the  maker  of  gods  coveted,  and  vice  versa  ; 
that  the  expedition  against  the  young  man  had 
failed  ;  that  the  Thorp  was  in  a  hubbub,  and 
the  young  man's  lass  was  cock-a-hoop.  Not 
enough  this  to  satisfy  a  packman. 

Next  morning  after  I  had  broken  my  fast, 
my  host  beckoned  me  to  come  with  him,  and 
issuing  forth  into  the  open  air  we  made  our 
way  towards  the  house  of  the  father.  Reaching 
this,  we  found  a  crowd  of  men  and  women 
surrounding  the  doorsteps  expectantly  waiting, 
and  among  other  familiar  faces,  and  standing 
well  apart  as  was  her  habit,  I  saw  my  little  lady 
of  the  raven  locks.  We  had  not  long  been  in 
our  positions  before  the  door  of  the  house 
opened,  and  forth  stepped  the  father,  surrounded 
by  his  thirteen  councillors.  The  father  held  in 
his  hand  a  scroll,  and  this  he  proceeded  to  read 


80     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

to  the  assemblage.  Having  thoroughly  mastered 
my  vocabulary,  I  caught  the  drift  of  the  docu- 
ment to  be  a  demand  for  the  instant  return 
to  the   confines  of    the   Thorp   of  the  maker 
of  gods,  ending  with  a  dignified  threat  of  future 
pains  and  penalties  should  the  sulky  craftsman 
not  comply  with  the   strong    request.     Those 
around  me  seemed  to  look  upon  it  as  a  weighty 
document,  but  little  the  people  know  about  the 
working  of  the  brain  of  one  whose  days  are 
spent  in  creating  the  beauties  of  life.     When 
the  father  had  done  with  his  reading,  the  parch- 
ment was  placed  with  great  care  inside  a  round 
gourd-like   box,    painted  a  brilliant   red,  and 
tightly  bound  with  wire,  and  this  was  handed 
to  my  host,  who  again  beckoning  me  to  follow, 
made  off  towards  the  mountain.     I  asked  him 
whither  he  was  bound,  and  making  out  from 
words  and  signs  that  he  intended  to  journey 
round  the  base  of  the  mountain,  I  went  to  where 
my  ass  was  tethered,  and,  mounting  the  drab 
brute, — for  my  host  swung  a  strapping  stride, — 
I  so  accompanied  him.    It  was  a  weary  journey 
on  the  ambling  beast,  picking  our  way  among 
rocks   and   dangerous  goat-paths ;  but  at  last 
when  we  had  made  as  near  as  I  could  judge  an 
eighth  of  the  circumference  of  the  extinct  vol- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     81 

cano,  we  came  to  a  brawling  mountain-stream 
that  poured  down  from  the  snows.  This  I 
found  fell  through  a  fissure  in  the  rock.  Stop- 
ping here,  my  guide  took  the  box  in  his  hand 
and  dropped  it  into  the  aperture,  and  by  point- 
ing out  the  hole  and  then  towards  the  centre 
of  the  mountain,  led  me  understand  that  the 
message  would  float  to  the  Yellow  Lake,  on  the 
shores  of  which  the  truant  was  encamped,  and 
that  its  glaring  red  tints  in  the  dark  waters 
were  to  attract  the  young  man's  eyes.  I  after- 
wards found  that  the  people  had  stretched  a  net 
across  the  stream  at  a  point  near  to  the  Thorp, 
so  that  no  message  which  the  maker  of  gods 
might  return  could  float  down  the  stream  un- 
noticed, f 

Sure  enough  on  the  following  morning  a 
message  from  the  man  in  the  mountain  had 
arrived,  and  was  found  caught  in  the  meshes  of 
the  net.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  tenor  of 
the  message.  When  the  father  read  it  to  the 
people  it  turned  out  to  be  resolute  and  defiant. 
Workmen  had  been  all  the  morning  busily 
engaged  in  erecting  the  framework  of  some- 
thing that  looked  to  be  a  triumphal  arch,  and 
these,  when  they  heard  the  contents  of  the 
missive,  appealed  to  the  father  to  say  whether 


82     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

or  no  they  were  to  proceed  with  their  work. 
After  a  consultation  with  his  elders,  the  father 
told  them  to  go  on,  and  they  returned  with  the 
unwillingness  that  men  display  when  they  fear 
their  labours  will  be  in  vain.  Surely  they  were 
not  erecting  an  arch  to  celebrate  the  return  of 
their  craftsman  !  That  would  be  absurd  !  It 
would  be  nothing  more  than  an  encouragement 
to  him  to  again  take  the  huff,  and  retire  into  the 
earth.  Yet  I  could  come  by  no  other  explana- 
tion, cudgel  my  brains  as  I  might ;  and  although 
sorely  put  to  it,  I  refrained  from  appearing  too 
inquisitive,  for  people  despise  an  inquisitive 
guest. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Three  days  passed,  and  again  the  black 
sounds  of  the  drum  vibrated  through  the  Thorp 
and  across  the  plain.  Each  day  a  message  had 
been  sent  to  the  truant,  and  each  morning  a  re- 
ply had  been  found  caught  in  the  net,  and  the 
replies  had  grown  rapidly  sharper  and  shorter. 
This  time  I  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  a  favour- 
able position  to  see  and  to  hear.  The  father 
was  agitated.  His  pride  had  been  touched. 
His  authority  had  been  mocked,  and  honour  of 
the  Thorp  placed  in  jeopardy.  When  the  people 
were  all  assembled — for  it  was  compulsory  to 
answer  to  the  sound  of  the  great  drum — the 
father  addressed  a  few  words  to  them,  telling 
them — the  meaning  was  transmitted  to  me 
partly  by  pantomime — that  the  matter  now 
rested  in  their  hands,  for  all  he  had  power  to  do 
had  been  done.  Then  he  read  the  latest  from 
the  mountain.  My  young  friend  wrote  scorn- 
fully. He  told  the  father  and  the  Thorp  to  do 
their  worst, — some  stupid  thing  it  would  be  he 

83 


84     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

had  no  doubt,— but  to  go  ahead  with  whatever 
stupid  thing  it  might  happen  to  be.  That  their 
worst  was  of  little  account  he  knew,  for  he  said 
(conceited  young  rascal)  that  there  was  not  an 
ounce  of  masculine  brain  in  the  whole  place  when 
he  was  absent.  He  reminded  them  all  that  the 
Thorp  would  have  been  known  only  to  the 
goats  were  it  not  for  his  work — and  another's  ; 
that  they  were  the  flesh  and  he — and  another — 
the  soul;  and  that  although  the  flesh,  like  a 
stubborn  ass,  sometimes  revolted,  such  a  revolt 
never  put  the  soul  to  serious  inconvenience,  and 
never  certainly  did  the  flesh  get  the  better  of 
the  soul  in  the  long  run.  He  ended  with  a 
scathing  sentence  to  the  effect  that  the  father 
had  always  considered  himself  of  some  import- 
ance ;  but  that  when  he,  the  father,  had  to 
receive  his  august  guest  breechesless,  he  would 
learn  that  the  man  was  of  no  importance,  and 
the  clothes  all  important. 

The  old  man's  face  grew  crimson  as  he  read, 
and  when  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  letter,  and 
read  the  last  line,  "  A  pretty  looking  father  of 
the  Thorp  you  will  look  with  bare  shanks,"  I 
began  to  think  that  I  would  at  last  have  an 
opportunity  to  prove  the  efficiency  of  certain 
compounds  of  herbs  and  minerals  which  I  had 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     S5 

been  trying  to  dispose  of — at  a  shrewd  profit, 
although  that  could  not  be  known — to  the  people, 
but  without  success,  for  they  persisted  in  shak- 
ing their  heads  at  the  lotions  and  salves,  and 
disbelieving.  However,  it  was  not  to  be,  for 
the  old  man  pulled  himself  together  and  stood 
with  his  short  arms  folded  across  his  drum-like 
breast  waiting  the  people's  pleasure.  This  let- 
ter could  be  looked  upon  as  nothing  else  than 
a  bad  slap-in-the-face  for  the  Thorp.  Not  one 
individual  in  a  score  of  scores  will  put  up  with 
nonenticity,  and  much  less  will  elders  of  men, 
with  a  community  at  their  back  to  bear  the 
burden  of  satisfying  outraged  dignity,  put  up 
with  slight  or  slur  on  the  town's  good  name. 
From  the  Thorp"  s  point  of  view  this  instance  of 
contempt  was  made  all  the  more  glaring  by  the 
knowledge  that,  as  far  as  I  was  able  to  under- 
stand, an  irresponsible  and  unimportant  person 
had  in  his  keeping  the  honour  of  the  place. 
Now  it  is  well  known  that  those  holding  tem- 
porary authority  cannot  for  a  moment  admit 
that  anyone  not  having  a  gilded  chain  around 
his  neck  and  a  fur-tipped  cloak  about  his 
shoulders,  can  be  of  more  than  incidental  use 
to  the  community.  This  is  so  the  world  over, 
and  yet  poets,  painters,  pundits,  preachers,  and 


86     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

play-actors,  with  a  self-conceit  which  the  world 
refuses  to  honour,  have  been  known  to  hold 
that  their  callings  are  as  high  as  are  those  of 
money-lenders,  the  dealer  in  slaves,  the  pub- 
lican, and  such-like  pillars  of  a  country's  edifice, 
whom  the  people  invariably  choose  to  bear  the 
dignities  of  civic  office.  And  here  I  had  stumbled 
on  a  strong  example  of  artistic  perversity.  A 
mere  maker  of  people's  gods,  a  carver  of  rich 
ornaments  which  the  elders  themselves  bought 
of  him,  this  man  flouting  the  very  men  who 
supported  him  ;  and  moreover,  if  the  truth 
were  known,  men  who  had  laid  past  more  goods 
in  a  twelve  month  than  the  maker  of  gods  was 
likely  to  treasure  up  in  a  life-time.  The  thing 
was  preposterous.  The  thing  was  absurd.  Yet 
the  young  man  in  the  mountain  coolly  asked  the 
elders  and  the  people  what  they  were  going  to 
do  about  the  matter,  and,  on  my  soul,  I  could 
see  the  authorities  were  somewhat  out  of  their 
depth.  A  crisis  like  this  did  not  arise  every 
day,  and  I  suppose  there  was  no  precedent  to 
go  upon.  If  they  had  been  fighting  any  other 
body,  the  elders  would  doubtless  have  requested 
the  maker  of  gods  to  appear  before  them,  and 
would  have  considered  that  they  were  con- 
ferring an  honour  on  him  by  allowing  him  to 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     87 

get  them  out  of  their  difficulty.  But  nature 
built  the  walls,  and  superstition  flooded  the 
moat  that  encircled  this  artist  from  his  ad- 
versaries. 

After  the  reading  of  the  letter  there  fol- 
lowed a  grave  council.  Patriarch  after  patriarch 
addressed  the  assemblage,  slowly,  solemnly, 
stately,  but  without  propounding  a  satisfactory 
way  out  of  the  difficulty.  They  got  no  nearer 
to  the  centre  of  the  ancient  volcano  from  whence 
the  headstrong  artist  persisted  in  firing  verbal 
bombs  into  the  midst  of  the  Thorp.  The  grey- 
beards prosed  away,  and  the  people,  having 
been  led  to  expect  a  decided  course  of  action, 
began  to  realise  the  seriousness  of  the  situation, 
and  to  grumble  and  murmur  at  the  unreadiness 
of  their  representatives  to  throttle  the  revolt  of 
their  eccentric  townsman  without  further  delay. 
A  half  a  score  of  the  elders  having  spoken, 
there  fell  a  long  silence.  The  people  were 
dispirited,  and  the  father  and  his  council  looked 
helpless. 

But  a  flash  came  from  the  blue.  The  ter- 
magant, who  had  stood  near  to  the  ambo,  her 
hard  features  set  harder  than  usual,  suddenly 
hustled  an  elder  from  his  seat,  and  stepping  into 
his  place  began  without  so   much  as  a  pre- 


88     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

liminary  cough  to  address  the  gathering.  Before 
she  had  spoken  a  half  score  sentences  the  words 
began  to  pour  from  her  in  a  torrent.  Her  clenched 
fist  shook  under  the  very  noses  of  the  elders, 
and  she  heaped  scorn  upon  their  grey  heads 
for  their  unreadiness  ;  her  face  grew  red  as  the 
breast  of  the  fire-bird,  her  arms  jerked  spas- 
modically, her  voice  rose  to  a  shriek,  and  she 
fairly  carried  the  people  off  their  feet  with  her 
eloquence.  I  saw  the  father's  soul  curl  up 
within  him  when  her  burning  glance  fell  upon 
him.  She  would  have  no  young,  shiftless,  long- 
haired dabbler-in-clay  flout  the  Thorp,  were 
she,  instead  of  an  old  maunderer,  head  of  the 
council,  that  she  wouldn't  !  He  snap  his  fingers 
at  them  indeed  !  Why  he  depended  on  them 
for  his  very  bread  and  brew.  Their  stock  of 
gods  was  quite  enough  for  the  time  being  ;  but 
that  aside,  if  she  had  to  tuck  up  her  petticoats, 
and  with  bared  leg  tread  the  clay  and  herself 
fashion  the  gods  to  the  best  of  her  ability,  she 
must  do  so  rather  than  let  a  menial  dictate 
to  his  superiors.  She  would  show  him !  He 
was  'a  thief,  for  had  he  not  run  off  with  their 
breeches?  Energetic  action  was  needed,  and 
energetic  action  they  would  have.  Let  them, 
the  people,  follow  her,  leaving  the  members  of 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     89 

the  council  to  look  wisely  the  one  at  the  other( 
and  she  would  show  them  how  to  make  the 
young  nincompoop  sue  for  forgiveness  and 
mercy ;  and  saying  this  she  jumped  to  the 
ground  and  made  through  the  crowd,  her 
Amazonic  face  looking  for  all  the  world  like  a 
Buddhist  idol,  and  the  people,  carried  away  by 
her  fury,  and  catching  from  her  the  insanity  of 
rage,  closed  around  her  and  swept  up  the  street 
leaving  the  father  seated  in  the  midst  of  his 
ring  of  councillors.  Poor  man  !  authority  only 
runs  so  far  as  one  has  power  to  exercise  it,  and 
in  this  instance  it  did  not  run  to  his  wife. 

The  scene  now  became  a  bustling  one.  Men, 
women,  and  children  followed  pell-mell  after 
the  termagant,  eager  to  know  what  her  plan  of 
action  might  be,  and  many  of  them  no  doubt 
eager  also  to  resent  the  insult  to  the  Thorp.  I 
have  found  even  in  countries  of  the  true  faith 
not  to  speak  of  savage  and  cunning  peoples  like 
the  Christians  and  Mahometans,  that  folk  are 
ever  ready  to  turn  their  hand  against  any  of  their 
fellows  who  live  a  life  untrammelled  by  the 
petty  customs  and  respectabilities  that  happen 
to  obtain  in  the  land.  Those  who  have  only 
respectability  to  recommend  them  cannot  brook 
anything  but  a  like  respectability  in  others.    So 


90     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  people  followed  like  sleuth  hounds  in  fine 
fettle.  The  termagant  made  straight  for  the 
stream,  and  striding  along  the  goat-path  that 
skirted  the  bank  came  at  last  to  the  great  rock 
against  which  I  had  leaned  my  back  on  the 
morning  of  my  interview  with  the  maker  of 
gods.  At  this  point,  as  I  have  already  told,  the 
river  narrowed  to  a  mere  gash  in  the  rock,  and 
the  boulder  hung  invitingly  over  the  very  edge 
of  the  gash.  In  an  instant  the  crowd  divined 
her  purpose,  and  with  a  hurrah  the  men  were  be- 
side the  boulder,  and  using  their  united  strength 
began  to  rock  the  rock.  Farther  and  farther 
it  swung  as  their  strength  delivered  at  proper 
intervals  told  on  its  balance,  until  at  last,  it 
hung  for  a  moment  as  though  fearing  the  leap, 
then  slipped  a  hand's-breadth  and  plunged  with 
the  report  of  thunder  into  the  deep  running 
waters.  As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  was  drenched 
by  the  sheet  of  water  the  great  rock  sent  flying  to 
the  sky,  and  through  the  falling  spray  I  saw  the 
termagant,  a  glorious  look  of  satisfied  revenge 
on  her  face,  and  her  finger  still  pointing  to  the 
bed  of  the  stream. 

It  is  one  thing  to  dictate  terms  to  an  op- 
ponent so  long  as  a  man  knows  that  whenever 
it    may   suit    his   convenience    he    has    it    in 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     91 

his  power  to  say  to  his  enemy,  "Very  well. 
You  refuse  to  concede  my  conditions,  so  I  with- 
draw my  demands  for  the  time  being,  and  we 
will  now  resume  our  normal  relations."  But  to 
attempt  to  dictate  terms  when  the  enemy  holds 
the  key  to  the  position  is  a  very  different  matter, 
indeed.  In  a  few  hours'  time,  the  chances  were, 
before  he  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  thing  hap- 
pening, the  maker  of  gods  was  likely  to  find 
his  circumstances  changed  from  the  first  to 
the  unenviable  second  of  these  positions.  The 
water  journeying  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  cavern 
struck  with  a  roar  the  great  stone,  paused  as 
though  surprised  at  the  obstacle  encountered, 
madly  ranged  around  for  a  time  in  swirl  and 
eddy,  and  finding  no  outlet,  ran  in  spasmodic, 
angry  waves  back  again  into  the  darkness  as  if 
to  carry  the  bad  news  to  the  waters  above  that 
their  ancient  bedway  had  been  dammed.  The 
boulder  stood  quite  twice  the  height  of  a  man 
above  the  bosom  of  the  stream,  and  it  so  nearly 
filled  the  chasm  that  the  waters  found  a  passage 
only  in  chinks  and  caverns,  through  which  it 
spurted  with  the  force  of  a  syphon.  As  the 
stream  rose  inch  by  inch,  I  thought  of  the  grin- 
ning gods  away  in  the  dark  passage,  hanging 
at  best  only  a  few  inches  above  the  surface  of 


92     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  water.  They  must  be  submerged  by  this 
time,  and  the  apertures  through  which  we  had 
so  painfully  crept  by  doubling  our  backs  un- 
til our  noses  nearly  touched  our  ankles,  must 
now  be  full  of  water.  The  termagant  knew 
what  she  was  about  when  she  led  the  people  to 
the  rock.  The  man  in  the  mountain,  instead  of 
isolating  himself  from  the  people  of  the  Thorp, 
was  now  their  captive.  Such  a  simple  way  too 
of  turning  the  tables,  but  great  inventions  are 
usually  simple  ones.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
when  the  time  came  for  removing  this  obstruc- 
tion the  matter  might  prove  rather  more  difficult 
than  had  been  the  placing  of  it  in  its  present 
position  ;  but  I  little  dreamt  that  it  would  turn 
out  to  be  an  impossibility,  and  that  the  falls, 
which  soon  began  to  thunder  over  the  great 
stone,  should  stand  to  this  day  a  monument  to 
the  man  who  went  into  the  mountain. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

It  is  strange  how  sayings  heard  in  the  earliest 
morning  of  one's  life  will  recur  to  the  memory 
in  the  most  unlikely  place,  yet  at  the  most 
opportune  moment.  As  I  sat  on  the  brink  of 
the  stream  watching  the  waters  rise  against  the 
boulder,  an  old  saw  that  used  constantly  to 
arise  to  the  lips  of  the  maternal  grandmother  of 
my  first  sweetheart — before  I  had  yet  left  my 
mother's  knee — came  into  my  grey  head.  She 
used  to  say,  when  in  the  mood  to  belittle  any- 
one or  thing,  which  old  people  are  given  to, 
that  the  man  who  was  wetted  by  the  first  drops 
of  a  waterfall  was  never  known  to  be  drowned. 
The  truth  of  this  saying  has  long  been  apparent 
to  me,  for  truly  the  waterfalls  began  before 
man  came  to  earth.  But  here,  strange  to  say,  I 
had  the  opportunity  to  insure  against  the  death 
of  which  I  have  had  many  a  premonition,  a 
death  that  I  dread.  Not  that  I  am  given  to 
fear  or  superstition,  but  it  is  better  to  be  on  the 
safe  side  when  it  costs  nothing.    So  the  people 

93 


94     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

having  all  followed  the  termagant  to  the  Thorp 
again,  I  got  me  down  behind  the  boulder  and 
waited  until  the  sun  had  leaped  the  head  of  the 
mountain,  when  slopping  over  the  top  of  the 
boulder  came  the  first  splutter  of  water,  and  the 
gods  are  good,  it  fell  upon  my  head — at  least,  if 
not  the  very  first  drops,  still  among  the  first, 
which  is  near  enough,  I  daresay.  When  I  made 
sure  of  the  water  on  my  head,  I  grasped  my 
stick  and  scrambled  up  the  bank  in  time  to  see 
a  thin  glass-coloured  sheet  lip  over  the  rock 
and  splash  upon  the  pebbles  at  the  foot,  wash- 
ing them  into  tiny  dunes  and  ridges,  dainty  hill 
and  dale,  for  water  nymphs  to  wander  amongst. 
The  sunlight  glanced  on  the  waters  and  gilded 
the  pebbly  bed  of  the  stream  and  the  moistened 
streaks  of  coloured  rocks  on  the  side,  and  quite 
forgetful  that  my  ass  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
street,  bridled  and  with  the  pack  on  his  back,  I 
sat  and  watched  the  birth  of  the  falls,  the  falls 
of  the  man  in  the  mountain. 

To  my  senses  at  last,  and  off  I  made  for  the 
Thorp  as  fast  as  stiff  legs  would  carry  me,  hop- 
ing to  find  my  cuddy  and  pack  still  safe, 
although  I  had  been  absent  for  more  than  half 
the  day ;  but  as  I  plodded  on,  my  thoughts, 
which  should  have  been  for  my  pack  and  beast, 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     95 

again  turned  to  the  little  lady  of  the  raven 
locks.  Had  she  heard  what  the  people  had 
done  ?  Bad  news  has  never  a  blistered  heel. 
Poor,  light-hearted  little  lady !  her  singing 
would  be  hushed  and  her  laughter  turned  to 
tears  when  she  knew  that  her  lover  was  now 
hopelessly  cut  off  from  her,  and,  galling  thought 
to  a  proud  lass,  that  before  he  could  again  kiss 
her  white  brow,  he  must  humble  himself  to 
those  whom  he  and  she  despised.  It  would  go 
hard  with  her  as  it  would  with  him. 

The  man  born  with  the  true  spirit  of  barter 
in  him,  the  knocks  that  are  given  his  pride 
bounce  off  as  though  he  were  made  of  india- 
rubber  ;  but  tQ  those  strange  bodies  who  spend 
their  short  lives  in  scribbling  the  song  and 
story  of  the  countryside,  or  streaking  the  wet 
clay  into  curious  shapes,  or  chiselling  quaint 
pictures  upon  the  face  of  the  rock  that  over- 
looks the  dwelling-places  of  men,  to  humble 
such  before  the  people  is  to  bruise  their  hearts 
between  two  stones.  And  a  woman  who  sees 
her  loved  one  tortured  thus,  she  suffers  all  the 
pangs — ay,  and  multiplied  an  hundred  times 
over.  Poor  little  woman  !  How  the  fire  would 
flash  from  her  tear-wet  eyes  !  How  scornfully 
her  lip  would  curl  !     What  disdain  would  show 


96     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

forth  in  the  very  poise  of  her  pretty  head  I 
There  were  many  against  her  one,  and  yet  he 
had  compelled  them  to  resort  to  force.  The  ox 
in  the  valley  could  have  done  what  the  people 
of  the  Thorp  had  done.  And  the  last  drop  of 
bitterness  was  added  to  the  cup  by  it  being  one 
of  her  own  sex,  the  she-dragon,  indeed,  who 
had  hit  upon  the  way  to  imprison  her  lover,  and 
had  led  the  people  to  the  rock.  Poor  lass ! 
After  seeing  to  my  beast,  and  running  over  my 
wares  to  make  sure  that  no  one  had  made  away 
with  anything  during  the  time  I  was  sitting  by 
the  side  of  the  stream,  I  just  gave  my  face  a  bit 
rub,  and  saw  to  the  brushing  of  my  clothes 
where  the  clay  of  the  stream  had  touched  them, 
and  after  putting  a  hint  of  sweet-smelling  oil  on 
my  hair,  I  took  my  staff  in  hand,  and  made 
away  down  the  street  to  see  if  I  could  be  of  any 
comfort  to  the  little  body.  I  waited  a  mannerly 
time  in  the  entry,  and  then  made  my  way  into 
her  room.  She  sat  at  her  spinning-wheel,  the 
purr  of  it  sounding  in  a  cheerful  snore,  and  the 
wheel  whirling  so  fast  that  it  looked  for  all  the 
world  as  if  it  were  a  whiff  of  grey  cloud,  and  the 
little  body  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  me  as 
I  entered — a  favourite  effect  of  hers  I  saw 
clearly.     Blithe  as  a  bird,  as  I'm  a  living  man, 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings      97 

her  eyes  dancing  with  roguish  light,  a  smile  of 
welcome  on  her  pretty  lips,  and  her  pink  fin- 
gers buried  in  the  carded  wood,  her  black  hair, 
in  strong  contrast  to  the  fleece,  rippling  down 
her  back,  and  her  pretty  foot  curtseying  and 
nodding  to  the  treadle  of  the  wheel.  She  fin- 
ished the  length  of  wool  she  had  in  her  hand 
before  leaping  lightly  to  her  feet,  and  taking 
my  two  great  paws  in  her  warm  hands,  she  led 
me  to  a  comfortable  form  and  bade  me  be 
seated.  Confound  the  women  !  I  cannot  make 
them  out  at  all.  The  little  wench,  cock-a-hoop, 
and  her  lover  imprisoned  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth.  Egad,  a  fine  look  out  for  men  if  all 
women  caredTno  more  than  a  snap  o'  the  finger 
whether  their  lovers  or  husbands  were  buried 
alive  or  buried  dead.  I  had  brought  with  me 
an  arm-length  of  gay  ribbon,  but  catch  me  giv- 
ing it  to  this  little  callous  !  Then  it  crossed  my 
mind  that  maybe  she  did  not  know;  and  think- 
ing that  some  one  less  sympathetic  might 
undertake  to  enlighten  her,  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  do  the  job  myself.  But  I  had  not  got  out  of 
my  mouth  half  a  score  of  laboured  words  when 
she  interrupted  me  with  a  peal  of  laughter, 
nodding  her  head  the  while  to  let  me  know  that 
she  knew  all  about  it.    Her  laughter,  however, 


98     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had  begun,  and  speak- 
ing vehemently,  she  said :  "  I  translate,  as  is 
my  wont,  generously. 

"Yes;  they  laugh  now  and  look  the  one  at 
the  other  mighty  knowingly,  and  they  wink 
and  snigger,  and  the  vixen  she  is  puffed  with 
pride.  But  wait.  You  shall  see  them  on  their 
knees.  My  lover  is  prepared  for  a  longer 
stay  than  the  father  and  Thorp  can  afford.  All 
is  well." 

To  hear  this  relieved  my  mind  greatly.  But 
the  witch  seemed  to  look  upon  it  in  the  light 
that  everything  which  had  been  arranged  to 
happen  would  happen.  It  never  crossed  her 
mind  that  there  were  such  things  as  misfortunes 
in  the  whole  world,  or,  we'll  say,  an  accident. 
What  if  the  maker  of  gods  should  fall  ill  of  a 
fever,  or  fall  over  a  rough  rock  and  break  his 
leg,  or  fall  into  the  silent  lake  and  get  chilled 
to  the  bone,  and  no  one  able  to  get  to  him  in 
his  dismal  prison !  She  did  not  dream  of  this 
as  she  again  settled  herself  to  the  wheel,  and  I 
tried  to  bring  myself  to  think  a  little  the  less  of 
her  for  her  thoughtlessness  ;  but  no  !  she  was  a 
comely  lass,  a  graceful,  dainty,  hopeful,  little 
lady,  a  trustful,  buoyant,  little  Hebe.  I  drank 
the  brew  she  gave  me,  and  had  not  the  heart  to 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     99 

leave  without  giving  her  the  bit  ribbon  I  had 
placed  in  the  crown  of  my  cap  for  her. 

On  the  evening  of  this  eventful  day  I  at  last 
learned  the  cause  of  the  dispute  between  the 
Thorp  and  the  maker  of  gods.  As  I  have 
already  explained,  my  experience  in  many 
lands  has  taught  me  that  a  sure  way  to  cause 
people  to  grow  suspicious,  of  one  who  is  a  guest 
among  them,  is  for  the  stranger  at  the  first  to 
display  a  too  curious  interest  in  their  circum- 
stances and  surroundings.  Knowing  this,  I  had 
carefully  abstained  from  appearing  to  nose  too 
deeply  into  this  strange  matter  between  Thorp 
and  craftsman,  while  all  the  time,  I  need  hardly 
say,  I  lost  no  opportunity  to  add  further  infor- 
mation to  that  already  acquired.  The  good- 
wife,  under  whose  hospitable  roof  I  had  stayed 
now  for  some  days,  with  the  ingenuity  that  is  a 
virtue  of  woman  alone,  and  assisted  by  the 
words  I  had  been  able  to  learn  from  my  expa- 
triated friend's  vocabulary,  managed  to  drive 
through  my  thick  skull  the  better  part  of  the 
pretty  quarrel.  I  wondered  if  any  packman 
but  my  own  self  could  have  been  so  stupid  as  to 
miss  the  meaning  for  so  many  days. 

The  good-wife  had  all  along  been  an  impar- 
tial spectator  of  the  to-do.     When  I  say  of  any 


ioo    The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

woman  that  she  is  impartial  it  will,  of  course, 
be  clear  to  all  that  she  took  no  interest  in  the 
question  one  way  or  the  other,  for,  of  course, 
no  woman  can  be  impartial  on  any  issue  for 
longer  than  it  takes  to  run  three  times  round 
the  town  pump.  Those  anile  nations,  the  Chris- 
tians, use  the  figure  of  a  woman  to  personify 
Justice.  True,  they  have  her  eyes  bound  tightly 
about,  her  mouth  shut,  and  have  performed 
several  other  miracles  with  her,  and  put  in  her 
hands  a  pair  of  scales  to  relieve  her  somewhat 
of  her  independent  judgment ;  but  unless  they 
have  also  her  ears  stopped  and  her  feelings 
extracted,  I  can  hardly  see  how  they  draw  the 
jewel  Impartiality  from  her.  But  it  may  be 
the  female  is  a  fit  symbol  of  their  justice. 
Well,  my  good  hostess  had  all  along  fashed  her 
head  but  little  over  the  matter,  paying  a  strict 
and  somewhat  self-immolating  attention  to  her 
household  and  her  household  gods,  nosing  after 
a  speck  of  dust,  flicking  out  a  fly,  polishing  this 
utensil  and  that,  mopping  the  floor,  mending 
the  clothes,  and  cooking  in  a  way  I  vow  no 
other  woman  in  the  land  could  cook.  But  the 
dramatic  damming  of  the  river  at  the  behest  of 
the  termagant  was  an  episode  which  no  self- 
respecting  housewife    and    mother    could    be 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     101 

expected  to  overlook  ;  and  mine  hostess,  her 
arms  akimbo,  waited  to  receive  me  when  I  re- 
turned from"  my  visit  to  the  lady  of  the  wheel. 
She  had  heard  the  news,  and  with  the  prompti- 
tude of  a  reliant  general,  had  taken  a  firm 
stand  on  one  side  of  the  quarrel.  There  is  no 
need  to  tell  which  side  she  took,  for  a  woman, 
who  is  a  mother,  her  heart  is  big,  and  she  in- 
variably takes  the  side  of  the  weaker  in  a  quar- 
rel, unless,  of  course,  the  quarrel  be  between  an 
hereditary  great  one  and  a  common  born,  when 
women,  young  or  old,  maiden  or  mother,  will 
assuredly  worship  the  title. 

She  began  to  me  by  saying  that  she  would 
say  nothing  particularly  good  of  the  young  man, 
for  the  gods  knew  he  had  his  faults  ;  nor  would 
she  say  anything  particular  against  the  terma- 
gant, for  it  might  be  that  the  gods  knew  she 
had  one  or  two  virtues;  but  this  she  would  say 
— and  she  said  a  great  deal.  She  first  began 
about  the  termagant,  and  miscalled  her  for  a 
shrew  and  a  vixen  ;  she  then  piled  mountain 
upon  mountain  of  scorn  upon  the  father  and  his 
silly  old  advisers,  the  patriarchs,  and  blamed 
them  for  allowing  the  vixen  to  get  her  finger  in 
the  pie  ;  she  said  they  had  landed  the  ancient 
Thorp  in  as  pretty  a  mess  as  town  had  ever 


102     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

found  itself  in,  that  they  had ;  and  that  it  would 
take  cleverer  men  than  ever  the  elders  showed 
themselves  to  be  to  get  the  Thorp  on  its  feet 
again,  that  it  would  ;  and  she'd  wager  they 
found  it  easier  to  pitch  the  rock  into  the  river 
than  to  set  it  up  again,  that  she'd  wager  ;  and  if 
they'd  ask  her  she  would  tell  them  to  their 
faces,  one  and  all,  that  they  were  a  precious 
parcel  of  idiots  over  the  head  of  the  whole  busi- 
ness, and  hear  what  they  had  to  say  for  them- 
selves. 

I  saw  my  opportunity,  and  stopping  the 
good-wife  her  tongue,  let  her  understand  that 
for  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  make  head  or  tail 
of  the  matter  in  dispute.  This  came  as  a  great 
surprise  to  the  good  woman,  and  caused  her  to 
raise  her  eyebrows  in  astonishment ;  that  any- 
one in  the  Thorp  could  be  unacquainted  with 
the  cause  of  the  stirring  struggle  had  never 
crossed  her  mind.  It  took  her  from  set  of  sun, 
through  the  gloaming,  and  until  the  men  were 
quitting  their  benches  for  bed,  to  make  me, 
dunce  packman,  understand.  She  first  stood 
me  up  beside  her,  and  stepping  in  front, 
assumed  a  solemn  look,  took  a  book  in  her 
hand,  and  commenced  to  mumble.  This,  it  took 
me  some  time  to  make  out,  was  the  marriage- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     103 

service.  Then  she  forced  me — I  was  the  maker 
of  gods,  I  made  out  from  her  pointing  to  the 
mountain,  and  patting  me  on  the  shoulder— to 
shake  my  head  in  protest.  Evidently  I  had  no 
wish  to  marry.  Next  she  braced  herself  up, 
threw  back  her  head,  and  assumed  the  insipid 
look  of  the  daughter  of  the  termagant.  O  ho  ! 
I  was  expected  to  marry  the  daughter,  and  I'd 
see  myself  farther  before  I  did.  Then  she  sat 
down,  and  shaking  her  head  as  a  maiden  does 
whose  hair  hangs  loose,  she  pretended  to  spin. 
The  lady  of  the  wheel !  She  caused  me  to 
smile  and  come  to  her  side,  and  put  my  arm 
around  her  waist — thank  all  the  gods  and  fates 
together  her  good  man  did  not  see  me — and  I 
knew  I  was  making  love  to  the  black-haired 
wench.  That  seemed  satisfactory.  Then  she 
flew  into  a  violent  temper,  and  stamped  around 
— the  termagant.  But  there!  enough  of  this 
detail  and  of  her  actions.  They  were  made 
necessary  by  the  maker  of  gods,  the  young 
rascal,  having  omitted  from  the  vocabulary  he 
gave  to  me  all  words  relating  to  love  and  mar- 
riage. The  whole  secret  of  the  affair  seemed  to 
be  that  the  termagant  wished  the  maker  of  gods 
to  marry  her  daughter,  and  the  young  man 
absolutely  refused  to  do  any  such  thing,  but, 


1 04     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

instead,  set  his  heart  on  one,  the  loveliest  in  all 
the  Thorp,  the  spinner  of  fine  wools,  the  weaver 
of  tapestries,  the  witch  of  the  raven  locks.  But, 
to  be  sure,  it  is  necessary  to  have  a  license  to 
marry,  and  this  the  termagant  defied  the  father 
to  give  ;  and  the  father  did  not  dare  to  disobey 
the  shrew.  I  asked  the  good  woman  what  of 
the  town's  property  the  maker  of  gods  had 
taken  with  him  into  the  mountain  ;  but  she 
smiled  and  led  me  to  understand  that  she  had 
no  intention  of  robbing  the  plot  of  all  its 
mystery  for  me,  and  so  I  dropped  the  matter, 
thinking  it  better  not  to  be  over-curious  in  my 
dealings  with  a  woman.  These  revelations  made 
the  situation  much  clearer  to  me,  although  the 
why  and  wherefore  of  the  Thorp's  great  anxiety 
to  get  the  renegade  to  return  was  still  unknown. 
However,  if  I  must  wait,  wait  I  must.  The  key 
sentence  I  now  knew  read  :  "  If  you  give  me 
my  marriage  permit,  I  will  give  you  your 
breeches."  To  discover  the  meaning  of  the 
latter  part  must  be  my  object,  and  to  come  by 
it  without  appearing  too  curious. 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  next  morning,  when  the  net  was  visited, 
no  message  from  the  missing  one  had  been 
caught  in  its  meshes.  Search  parties  were 
therefore  organized,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  fall 
one  made  a  discovery  that  caused  a  mighty 
sensation  in  the  Thorp.  It  proved  to  be  noth- 
ing more  or  less  than  one  of  the  red  boxes 
which  had  been  sent  to  the  maker  of  gods  by 
the  council  of  ejders,  and  the  box  had  not  been 
opened.  The  finders  of  this  looked  upon  the 
matter  as  ominous,  indeed,  and  hurried  with  the 
box  to  place  it  into  the  hands  of  the  father. 
When  it  came  to  be  opened,  lo !  it  was  found 
to  contain  the  Thorp's  most  important  message 
to  the  young  craftsman,  the  message  that 
threatened  harsh  measures  should  he  not  return 
to  the  Thorp  at  once.  Through  some  accident 
he  had  missed  the  missive.  By  unlucky  chance 
it  must  have  floated  across  the  lake,  and,  catch- 
ing in  the  current,  passed  through  to  the  exit 
channel  before  the  young  man's  quick  eye  had 

105 


106     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

marked  its  progress  on  the  bosom  of  the  silent 
sea.  Scarcely  had  the  consternation  born  of 
this  discovery  reached  its  height,  for  they  were 
a  fairminded  people,  when  in  from  above  the 
falls  came  a  goatherd  with  a  message  from  the 
man  in  the  mountain.  This  was  opened  in  a 
great  fluster  of  excitement,  and  at  once  read  to 
the  people.  It  proved  to  be  a  strange  epistle 
indeed,  scribbled  in  pencil  on  the  back  of  an 
old  parchment,  which  had  evidentlybeen  folded 
in  the  young  man's  pocket  for  many  days.  He 
wrote,  that  having  gone  on  an  exploring  expe- 
dition of  some  duration  up  the  side  of  the  crater, 
he  found  on  his  return  that  the  surface  of  the 
lake  had  risen  so  as  to  flood  the  ledge  of  lava 
on  which  his  tent  was  pitched,  and  that  all  his 
goods  and  clothing,  edibles,  firewood,  and  bed- 
ding had  been  washed  into  the  bottomless  well. 
He  found  himself,  therefore,  without  shelter, 
without  fire,  without  food,  and  as  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  interior  of  the  mountain  was  well 
known  to  many  of  them,  they  would  realize, 
without  words  from  him,  in  what  a  predicament 
he  was  now,  from  double  starvation.  He  could 
not  say  whether  or  no  this  state  of  things  had 
been  caused  by  any  action  on  the  part  of  the 
people  of  the  Thorp  ;  but  if  it  was  of  their 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     107 

doing,  the  Thorp  must  now  be  in  the  happy 
position  of  being  able  to  congratulate  itself  on 
the  complete  success  of  the  scheme ;  for  a  few 
days,  under  the  best  circumstances  which  he 
could  hope  to  secure,  would  see  the  end  of  him 
in  that  icy  hole.  He  would  ask  for  no  quarter. 
Indeed,  should  the  Thorp  attempt  to  send  him 
supplies,  there  were  a  thousand  chances  to  one 
against  him  being  able  to  come  by  them,  for 
the  flood  had  carried  away  his  canoe,  and,  as 
the  water  in  the  interior  of  the  mountain  was 
nothing  more  or  less  than  liquid  ice,  it  meant 
death  to  anyone  who  would  venture  into  it.  To 
finish,  he  said  that  maybe  some  of  them  thought 
that  by  thus  putting  his  life  in  jeopardy  he 
would  be  induced  to  cry  "Mercy!"  If  such 
was  the  case,  he  begged  to  inform  one  and  all 
that  his  safety  or  danger  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  justice  of  his  cause.  Right  was  right 
whether  he  starved  to  death  or  no,  and  he 
would  hold  to  his  course  come  what  might. 

In  this  part  of  the  world  we  know  well  that 
beasts,  for  instance,  wolves,  hunting  in  packs, 
and  all  eager  to  run  down  and  secure  the  game 
which,  without  the  assistance  of  his  companions, 
no  one  of  them  could  hope  to  bring  to  earth, 
will,  nevertheless,  in  an  instant  turn  round  upon 


io8     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

one  of  the  pack  which  happens  to  receive  an 
injury,  and  instead  of  helping  the  poor  brute  to 
the  game,  rend  and  devour  him  that  in  health 
was  one  with  them  all.  To  these  examples  we 
animals,  who  are  accursed  with  the  gift  of 
being  able  to  put  our  perverse  moralizings  to 
paper,  point,  and  flatter  ourselves  on  the  score 
of  our  moral  superiority  to  all  other  creatures  of 
the  earth.  But,  verily,  we  have  no  reason  to 
plume  ourselves  so.  The  man  we  one  day  lift 
to  our  shoulders  and  carry  before  an  admiring 
world  is  the  next  day  cast  to  the  ground  and 
torn  to  pieces.  The  greater  we  honour,  the 
more  fiercely  we  revenge,  when  his  feet  are 
placed  once  more  in  the  dust.  And  now  an  ex- 
ample of  the  truth  of  this  was  forthcoming. 
Yesterday  the  termagant  had  led  the  admiring 
mob.  To-day — well,  the  ablest  of  women  lacks 
the  tact  of  perceiving  when  it  is  well  to  hold 
her  tongue,  and  to  keep  out  of  sight,  and,  per- 
ceiving, to  act  accordingly.  Diplomacy  of  the 
highest  kind  is  a  male  attribute,  for  women  are 
too  single-hearted  for  fine  duplicity. 

When  the  sensations  caused  by  the  finding 
of  the  two  missives  were  buzzing  in  everyone's 
brain,  the  termagant,  who  up  to  this  time  had 
kept  well  in  the  background,  thinking  to  check 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     109 

the  rising  tide  of  anger,  stepped  to  the  front, 
and  essayed  to  address  the  people.  It  turned 
out  to  be  an  indiscreet  and  sorrowful  appear- 
ance for  her.  Mine  hostess,  being  a  new  recruit 
to  the  dispute,  had,  as  new-comers  will,  worked 
her  way  to  the  front,  and  the  moment  she 
clapped  eyes  on  the  termagant  she,  honest 
woman,  began  such  a  tongue-lashing  as  only  a 
plain  spoken  woman  can  give.  The  knowledge, 
unvoiced  but  intuitional,  that  the  sympathies  of 
those  surrounding  were  with  her,  gave  to  her 
tongue  the  spice  and  gall  that  it  might  other- 
wise have  lacked,  as  she  shook  one  hard,  red 
fist  under  the  termagant's  nose,  while,  with  the 
other  hand  open  and  fingers  spread  apart,  she 
protested  to  the  crowd  against  the  she-dragon 
and  all  her  ways. 

And  the  Amazon !  Did  she  quail  ?  Not  a 
bit  of  it.  Her  face  fell  into  a  cruel  set,  her 
bosom  heaved,  and  her  dark  eye  flashed  as  she 
majestically  confronted  my  hostess  by  stepping 
into  the  street.  It  was  a  foolish  move  on  her 
part,  for  stepping  from  the  dignity  of  the 
father's  doorstep  to  the  plebeian  cobbles  of  the 
common  thoroughfare  reduced  her  to  the  level 
of  a  citizen,  and  with  a  burst  of  fury  the  crowd 
was  upon  her  and  had  her  overpowered— albeit, 


no     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

she  scratched  like  a  tigress.  It  was  the  women 
who  seized  her,  and  led  by  my  amiable  hostess 
they  carried  her  where  stood  my  humble  ass 
tethered,  ready  for  the  pack.  On  the  poor 
brute  they  placed  the  female  tyrant,  and  a  half 
dozen  women  holding  her  in  place,  the  whole 
crowd — men,  women  and  children — laughing 
hysterically  and  skipping  around,  marched  to 
the  river.  I  followed,  fearing  injury  to  the 
donkey.  But  no  injury  befell  the  beast.  When 
the  people  reached  the  river  the  women  took 
the  termagant  in  their  arms,  unheeding  the 
scratches  and  hair-pullings;  and  with  as  little 
to  do  as  if  they  had  been  handling  a  bag  of 
sand,  they  waded  into  the  stream  with  their 
captive  and  dipped  her  under  the  running 
waters,  it  must  have  been  half  a  dozen  times, 
although  to  tell  the  truth  I  could  not  look  on  to 
count  the  exact  number,  for  I  do  hate  to  see  a 
woman  tyrant  or  tolerant — any  woman — brutal- 
ized. When  they  had  satisfied  their  vengeance, 
and  when  the  termagant  was  as  limp  as  she  had 
formerly  been  defiant,  they  took  her  out  and 
placed  her,  dripping  wet,  on  the  back  of  my 
beast,  and  set  her  down  at  her  own  door. 

It  is  a  useful   institution  the  ducking-stool. 
In  this  instance  it  gave  to  the  people  an  oppor- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     1 1 1 

tunity  to  reduce  the  pride  and  intolerance  of 
one  who  henceforth  must  be  spoken  of  as  the 
quondam  termagant,  and  at  the  same  time  of 
easing  their  consciences  of  the  full  onus  of  the 
deed  they  themselves  had  done  in  pitching  the 
boulder  into  the  river.  People  are  given  to  re- 
penting of  an  injury  to  one  person  by  injuring 
another.  But  as  to  this  dipping  I  was  not  alto- 
gether ill-pleased,  for  the  woman  had  laid  vio- 
lent hands  upon  me  on  the  first  occasion  of  our 
meeting  face  to  face. 

This  burst  of  passion  over,  the  atmosphere 
was  cleared  for  the  serious  work  that  lay  ahead 
of  the  Thorp.  There  could  be  no  mistaking 
what  the  people  fntended  to  do.  The  late  ter- 
magant and  her  brainless  daughter  must  stand 
aside.  The  maker  of  gods  must  be  released 
and  restored  to  his  place  in  the  community,  and 
his  love  troubles  no  longer  interfered  with.  He 
must  have  his  license  and  his  liberty.  So 
shouted  the  crowd,  and  so  understood  the  father 
— glad  to  have  the  matter  done  with,  I  could 
see — and  the  elders,  who  also  did  not  look  at  all 
ill-pleased  either.  The  Thorp  at  once  took  on 
a  wonderfully  throng  look.  The  workmen,  who 
hitherto  had  worked  at  the  triumphal  arch  in  a 
listless,  lackadaisical  way,  now  swarmed  along 


H2     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  scaffolding  and  set  up  a  merry  hammering, 
shouting  to  each  other  to  buckle  to  with  a  will; 
while  the  carpenters  alone  excepted,  all  the 
men  folk  of  the  Thorp,  under  the  leadership  of 
the  little,  wizened,  virile  shoemaker,  made  off 
for  the  falls,  the  mighty  blacksmith,  with  his 
sledge-hammer  slung  over  his  shoulder,  forming 
the  apex  of  the  phalanx.  Even  as  I  was  busy 
wiping  my  donkey  dry  after  her  dripping  load, 
I  heard  the  high,  sharp  click  of  a  heavy  ham- 
mer falling  on  hard  stone. 

Now  as  the  Thorp  was  empty  of  men,  and 
well-nigh  so  of  women,  and  as  the  people  had 
reached  such  a  state  of  enthusiasm  that  my 
questionings,  I  felt  convinced,  would  not  ap- 
pear out  of  place,  I  resolved  to  join  the  builders 
of  the  arch  and  give  them  a  hand  in  a  quiet 
way — for  violent  exertion  is  not  for  the  good  of 
a  packman — to  see  whether  I  could  not  draw 
one  of  them  into  conversation.  In  this  fortune 
favoured  me,  for  a  man,  who  as  he  worked  cast 
many  glances  at  the  sun  to  mark  its  progress, 
took  kindly  to  my  inquiries,  and  as  often  as  the 
overseer  happened  to  be  called  to  another  part 
of  the  skeleton-like  erection,  he  was  graciously 
pleased  to  sit  by  me.  No,  the  arch  was  not  be- 
ing builded  in  honor  of  the  anticipated  return 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     113 

of  the  maker  of  gods.  A  great  man,  the  gov- 
ernor of  this  part  of  the  world,  was  expected  to 
visit  the  Thorp;  a  visit  he  paid  to  the  place  but 
once  every  five  years,  on  purpose  to  receive 
from  the  father  and  elders  an  assurance  of  loy- 
alty towards  his  person  and  certain  dues  in 
cash  and  kind,  without  which  governors  care 
little  for  verbal  protestations  of  fidelity.  The 
arch  was  in  honour  of  this  great  man,  although, 
my  kind  informant  said,  the  people  of  the 
Thorp  considered  they  were  assessed  too  high 
in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  their  loyalty. 
But  this  was  not  all.  The  better  half  of  the  row 
between  my  young  friend  in  the  mountain  and 
the  town  turned  Out  to  be  in  regard  to  this  same 
visit. 

Yes,  breeches  were  the  causes  of  all  the 
heart-burnings.  It  seemed  that  the  official 
breeches  which  the  town  authorities  were  bound 
to  wear  on  the  occasion  of  the  ceremony  were 
fashioned  out  of  chamois  leather,  after  a  pe- 
culiar and  ancient  cut,  and  around  the  knees, 
where  indeed  all  badges  of  office  should  be — for 
office  shackles  a  man  morally  and  physically — ■ 
were  the  chains  of  the  town's  authority  made  of 
beaten  gold.  Now  it  appeared  that  these  in- 
dispensable articles  of  clothing  had  been  passed 


H4     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

into  the  care  of  the  maker  of  gods  to  furbish 
and  to  burnish,  and  he,  the  young  scapegrace, 
knowing  well  that  the  elders  must  have  their 
breeches,  made  off  with  them  into  the  mountain 
to  hold  them  as  hostages.  Were  it  not  for  this, 
he  could  have  stayed  on  the  shores  of  Yellow 
Lake  till  the  crack  of  doom  for  all  the  elders 
would  have  cared.  But  deprived  of  their  state 
clothes,  and  the  day  appointed  for  the  visit  of 
the  great  one  drawing  near,  no  wonder  the  peo- 
ple began  to  pull  long  faces.  The  Thorp  was 
being  taught  a  lesson  sore  in  the  learning,  to 
wit,  it  is  not  the  rank  that  confers  dignity  on  a 
man,  but  the  clothes  which  the  rank  enables 
him  to  wear.  The  man  is  of  no  importance,  the 
gear  all  important. 

When  I  surveyed  the  events  of  the  past  few 
days,  the  gods  give  my  donkey  wings  if  it  was 
not  much  like  to  one  who  at  the  end  of  the  sec- 
ond act  casts  his  mind  back  to  the  beginning  of 
a  play  so  that  he  may  the  better  grasp  the  con- 
tinuity and  the  whole.  The  determined  lover, 
the  equally  determined  termagant,  the  jejune 
daughter,  the  black -haired  witch  of  the  wheel, 
the  henpecked  father  who  refused  the  license 
to  marry,  the  making  away  with  the  breeches, 
the  outlandish  hiding-place,  the  strange  nego- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     115 

tiations,  the  clever  trap,  the  excellent  ducking 
— I  vow  it  was  for  all  the  world  like  to  a  tale 
told  in  the  tent  of  the  Bedouin,  when  the  silver 
moon  peeps  over  the  rim  of  the  desert. 

The  garrulous  carpenter  gone  reluctantly  to 
work  I  happened  to  glance  up.  There  the 
great  mountain  looked  down  on  the  village 
with  all  its  bustle  and  worry,  and  I  aver  the 
mountain  seemed  to  smile  at  the  tiny  comedy. 


CHAPTER  X 

But  comedy  has  a  way  of  changing  at  the 
most  unexpected  moment  to  tragedy.  Even  as 
I  sat  there  listening  to  the  carpenter,  news 
came  to  the  Thorp  that  those  who  had  gone  to 
the  rock  found  themselves  baffled  in  their 
attempts  to  remove  the  obstruction,  and  they 
now  asked  that  the  carpenters  should  join  with 
them  in  the  work,  bringing  timbers  from  the 
village  yard  for  the  purpose  of  prises.  Oxen 
from  the  valley  were  being  hurried  forward,  the 
long  chains  clanking  from  their  yokes  as  the 
great-eyed  beasts  swayed  from  side  to  side  in 
their  haste.  Trusting  that  by  some  lucky  acci- 
dent at  least  one  of  them  would  be  washed 
within  reach  of  the  prisoner,  the  elders  had 
sent  a  half  score  messages  into  the  mountain, 
bearing  words  of  comfort  and  cheer ;  that  the 
obstruction  to  the  stream  was  being  removed 
as  speedily  as  could  be,  that  a  canoe  with  food 
and  clothing  had  been  sent  as  far  into  the 
mountain  as  the  water  permitted,  and  that  those 

116 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     117 

in  charge  of  the  craft  would  put  forward  at  the 
earliest  moment  they  found  a  passage  to  be 
practicable.  The  man  and  the  breeches  could 
not  be  forthcoming  a  moment  too  soon  to  suit 
the  Thorp,  for  the  great  man  waB  timed  to 
arrive  on  the  next  afternoon. 

With  the  builders  of  the  arch  I  made  my 
way  to  the  waterfall  that  now  roared  in  good 
earnest  over  the  boulder.  And  there  saw  I  a 
scene  which  I  still  think  of  as  one  of  the  most 
pathetic  of  my  long  life  of  sight-seeing.  The 
strong  men  had  first  attempted  to  break  away 
the  bank  of  the  stream,  but  this  they  found  to 
be  quite  impossible.  The  sides  of  the  water- 
way were  of  solid  rock,  and  to  cut  a  channel 
through  one  or  other  of  them  must  prove  to  be 
the  work  not  of  hours,  but  of  many  moons.  So 
now  every  man  had  a  different  plan,  and  each 
was  pursuing  his  own  device.  Some  were  pre- 
paring places  for  the  timber  levers  in  readiness 
for  the  arrival  of  the  carpenters  and  oxen, 
others  were  prospecting  the  banks  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  mountain,  hoping  to  find  a  fissure  in 
the  rock  which  might  be  used  to  divert  the 
course  of  the  stream  ;  and  the  blacksmith,  his 
head  and  his  great  arms  bare,  the  perspiration 
running  down  his  face  and  falling  in  a  stream 


1 1 8     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

from  his  smooth  chin,  he,  having  chosen  a  cor- 
ner of  the  boulder  which  topped  the  running 
waters,  swung  his  sledgehammer  around  his 
head  and  brought  it  down  ring,  ring,  ring,  ever 
on  the  same  place.  (For  it  is  the  nature  of  a 
stone,  as  it  is  of  man,  that  it  appears  at  its 
firmest  when  on  the  point  of  relinquishing  the 
strife  and  rending  asunder.)  Already  the  great 
hammer  was  blunted  to  the  likeness  of  an  open 
sun-flower,  and  the  face  of  the  rock  was  dulled 
and  bruised  where  the  blows  fell.  But  as  yet 
there  were  no  signs  of  any  such  result  as  the 
blacksmith  hoped  for.  A  good  general  as  care- 
fully plans  for  a  retreat  as  for  an  advance. 
But  in  tipping  this  huge  obstacle  into  the  bed 
of  the  stream,  the  people  had  not  given  a 
thought  to  the  getting  of  it  out  again.  Whether 
or  no  they  would  have  been  able  to  remove  the 
obstacle,  had  there  been  no  deep  body  of  run- 
ning water  to  hinder  them,  I  am  sure  I  cannot 
tell  ;  but  this  was  clear,  that  under  the  present 
conditions  there  was  little  chance  of  their  suc- 
cess. I  realized  this,  and  sorrow  fell  upon  my 
heart. 

Poor,  headstrong,  puny,  proud  young  man  in 
the  mountain  !  We  all  saw  that  he  would  have 
to  wait  a  longer  time  for  the  succour  he  so 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     119 

sorely  needed  than  his  body  was  likely  to  har- 
bour his  soul.  No  doubt  by  this  time  he  had 
sat  him  down  by  the  shore  of  the  silent  sea  and 
modeled  for  himself,  out  of  the  clay  picked 
from  between  the  rocks,  the  little,  peaceful  god 
of  eternal  sleep.  He  would  do  this  I  knew 
before  the  chill  and  damp  struck  into  his  heart, 
to  filch  from  him  the  gifts  the  gods  had  so 
freely  given  to  him.  How  pleasant  to  know 
that  he  could  make  for  himself  his  own  god  to 
comfort  him  when  his  eyelids  were  fluttering, 
like  the  wings  of  a  stricken  bird,  to  close  for- 
ever. And  poor,  little  bright-eyed  lass,  the 
wheel  would  not  sing  its  droning  song  to-night, 
and  the  little  cabin  would  be  lonely  and  dark. 
Toward  the  hour  of  sundown  the  elders  were 
called  together,  and  from  this  time  on  till  the 
morning  light,  sent  at  periods,  certain  sugges- 
tions to  the  workers,  none  of  which  proved  of 
any  practical  value.  When  darkness  fell, 
torches  were  lighted,  and  the  whole  Thorp 
turned  out  to  lend  a  hand,  or  to  look  on.  Indeed 
it  was  a  weird  sight.  Torches  spluttered  and 
flared,  men  shouted,  oxen  strained  at  the  chains, 
the  falls  growled  angrily  over  the  rock,  the 
herculean  blacksmith,  seeming  to  gain  strength 
as  the  hours  flew,  swung  his  great  hammer ; 


120    The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

and  above  all,  the  mountain,  looming  out  of  the 
blackness  and  towering  among  the  stars. 

It  must  have  been  about  the  middle  of  night 
when  we  all  heard  a  peculiar  crash,  and  those 
of  us  near  to  the  blacksmith  saw  the  sledge- 
hammer fly  into  a  score  of  pieces  ;  the  hammer 
that  was  to  shatter  the  rock,  shattered  in  its  en- 
deavours. But  although  the  tool  was  riven,  the 
blacksmith  still  swung  the  handle  around  his 
head  as  he  had  done  for  many  hours,  and 
brought  the  end  of  it  down  on  the  self-same 
spot,  until  one  standing  near,  touched  him  on 
the  shoulder  to  tell  him  of  the  disaster.  When 
the  man's  fingers  fell  upon  his  shoulder  the 
blacksmith  sprang  as  one  stricken  to  the  heart, 
and  falling  with  a  great  splash  into  the  stream 
would  have  been  carried  away  by  the  waters 
had  there  not  been  ample  assistance  at  hand. 
When  it  was  seen  that  the  blacksmith  had 
given  up  the  struggle  and  lay  motionless  on  the 
bank,  the  hope  that  buoyed  many  of  those  who 
worked  took  flight,  for  they  had  all  set  their 
faith  on  his  strong  arms  and  heavy  hammer. 
The  ring  of  the  broken  hammer  to  every  one  of 
our  ears  sounded  the  knell  of  the  exile  in  the 
mountain. 

Morning  came,  bright  and  balmy,  but  the 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     121 

rays  of  the  sun,  as  they  struck  upon  the  sullen 
rock,  only  showed  more  clearly  the  hopelessness 
of  the  situation.  And  as  the  sun  shone  full  in 
the  heavens,  the  last  ox  was  unyoked,  and  the 
last  workers  marched  wearily  to  the  Thorp. 

A  community  is  one  person  multiplied  an 
uncertain  number  of  times.  When  a  crisis 
comes  in  the  affairs  of  a  people,  when  a  black- 
pinioned  disaster  is  hovering  over  the  commu- 
nity, the  people  are  given  to  flying  for  help  and 
protection  to  the  one  of  themselves,  whom,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  civic  year,  they  invested 
with  chimerical  power.  From  the  date  of  such 
investment  to  the,  end  of  the  term,  they  look 
upon  the  one  of  themselves,  in  whose  hands  are 
the  seals  of  office,  as  though  he  were  endowed 
with  special  powers  from  the  gods.  And  the 
one  of  themselves  himself  is  apt  to  fall  into  the 
same  way  of  thinking.  So  the  matter  stands 
until  the  gods  take  it  into  their  heads  to  smite 
the  community.  Then  the  people  turn  to  their 
one  in  authority  and  see  that  he  is  but  one  of 
themselves ;  and  he,  poor  soul !  turns  to  the 
people  and  bewails  the  day  he  hearkened  unto 
the  flatterers,  and  upbraids  them  for  giving 
him  worthless  power,  and  there  is  no  help  forth- 
coming.   So  it  came  about  this  day.     The  men, 


122     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  women,  and  the  children,  many  of  them 
weary  to  falling  from  their  struggles  with  the 
obstinate  rock,  which  like  a  deed  done  in  anger 
could  never  be  undone,  still  looked  for  help, 
and  gathering  around  the  door  of  the  house  of 
the  father,  they  waited  patiently  to  be  spoken 
to  and  comforted.  The  elders  still  sat  in  coun- 
cil, if  council  it  could  be  called  where  no  one 
spoke,  and  each  gave  himself  up  to  gloomy 
forebodings  for  the  future  of  the  Thorp,  and 
anguished  thought  for  the  fate  of  the  young 
man  in  the  mountain. 

But  something  must  be  done.  Recognizing 
the  claims  of  the  people,  the  father  at  length 
appeared  surrounded,  as  was  the  custom  in 
those  parts,  by  the  patriarchs,  and  their  faces 
were  the  faces  of  men  without  hope.  At  the 
sight  of  the  old  man  a  murmur  of  sorrow  ran 
through  the  crowd,  and  many  an  apron  was 
raised  to  tearful  eyes,  and  I  saw  the  backs  of 
not  a  few  grimy  hands  drawn  sharply  across 
downcast  faces.  All  hope  of  rescuing  the  pris- 
oner, and  all  hope  of  saving  the  reputation  of 
the  ancient  and  honourable  Thorp  had  deserted 
the  hearts  of  the  people.  I  looked  about  me, 
but  the  little  lady  of  the  wheel  was  nowhere  to 
be  seen. 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     123 

The  father  raised  his  two  hands  above  his 
white  head  preparing,  as  I  took  it,  to  address 
the  people.  However,  before  a  word  passed 
his  lips,  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoof  striking 
upon  the  cobble  stones  of  the  narrow  street 
caused  every  one  to  look  in  the  direction  from 
which  the  sounds  came.  There,  plainly  visible 
in  the  morning  sunlight,  his  coat  a  blaze  of 
crimson  and  gold,  a  scimitar  clanking  against 
the  flank  of  the  beast,  came  riding  a  courier 
who  blew  a  brazen,  blaring  fanfare  from  a 
trumpet,  the  sound  of  which  was  tossed  like  a 
shuttle-cock  from  window  to  window  as  he 
guided  his  foaming  steed  direct  to  the  father's 
house.  This  gorgeously  caparisoned  creature 
reined  his  horse  to  a  standstill  at  the  edge  of 
the  crowd,  and,  paying  a  sublime  unheed  to  us 
all,  again  caused  the  air  to  ring  with  the  brassy 
sound  ;  and  when  he  had  caught  his  breath, 
announced  in  a  high  and  plaintive  voice  that 
his  master,  Lord  of  all  the  provinces  on  which 
the  sun  took  pleasure  in  shining,  the  Prince  of 
the  Earth,  etc.,  etc.,  would  do  the  Thorp  the 
high  honour  of  riding  within  her  gates  at  mid- 
day of  this  same  day,  to  receive  the  homage 
and  submission  of  the  authorities  and  inhabi- 
tants thereof,  all  and  sundry,  and  also  the  dues 


124    The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

which  he  was  graciously  pleased  to  accept  as  a 
token  of  their  firm  loyalty;  furthermore,  that 
the  authorities  and  people  were  to  take  heed 
that  they  received  the  Prince  of  the  Earth  in 
becoming  manner,  or  they,  their  children,  and 
their  children's  children  would  rue  it  to  their 
dying  day!  Amen.  And  with  a  final  flourish 
of  the  trumpet,  he  disappeared  a  flame  of  fire 
and  gold  down  the  street  and  away. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  father,  good  soul !  had  scarcely  lowered 
his  hands  before  they  were  once  more  thrown 
up  in  despair,  and  the  faces  of  the  elders  grew 
even  longer  than  they  had  formerly  been.  The 
people  stood  dumfoundered.  Verily,  the 
bright  sun  of  the  ancient  Thorp  had  set  and  set 
for  ever.  No  welcome,  and  the  great  one  thun- 
dering at  the  gate ! 

Well,  it  was  no  longer  a  place  for  a  thrifty 
packman,  and  I  began  quietly  to  edge  my  way 
out  of  the  crowd  so  as  to  lay  hold  of  my  ass  and 
pack,  and  get  well  around  the  mountain  before 
the  great  one  descended  upon  the  Thorp.  At 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd  I  paused  to  gaze,  as 
indeed  were  all  the  people,  at  the  departing 
splendour  of  the  herald.  While  standing  thus, 
it  chanced  I  heard  a  little  fellow,  who  tugged  at 
his  mother's  petticoats,  call  upon  her  to  look 
and  see  the  strange  bundle  the  man  was  carry- 
ing. It  is  the  nature  of  one  in  sorrow  to  pay 
lavish  attention  to  the  whims  of  children,  and 

125 


126    The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

the  poor  woman,  although  her  attention  was 
fixed  upon  the  departing  red  and  gold  as 
though  she  were  fascinated  by  the  brilliant 
colours,  turned  her  head  in  the  direction  to 
which  the  chubby  little  finger  pointed. 

The  next  instant  we  were  all  electrified  by  a 
shrill  scream.  Whirling  sharply  round,  I  was 
only  in  time  to  save  the  woman  from  falling 
heavily  to  the  earth.  As  she  swooned,  her  arm 
stiffened  and  her  finger  pointed.  And  there,  as 
the  gods  shall  feather  my  donkey,  we  saw 
within  half  a  stone's  throw  of  us  all,  and  coming 
swinging  towards  us,  the  maker  of  gods  himself. 
On  one  arm  leaned  the  little  lady  of  the  wheel, 
cock-a-hoop  as  ever ;  and  on  the  other,  piled 
one  on  top  of  its  neighbour,  were  the  Thorp's 
official  breeches,  burnished  and  shining.  I  hope 
never  again  to  pass  through  such  an  uncom- 
fortable time.  Our  arms  were  full  of  women 
fainting,  or,  worse  still,  in  hysterics,  while  chil- 
dren hung  to  their  mother's  skirts  and  bawled 
at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  the  very  men  of 
us  shouting  excitedly  to  no  one  in  particular,  as 
if  every  soul  of  us  had  been  struck  daft  by  the 
sight  of  a  ghost.  Straight  through  the  thick  of 
us  the  young  man  shouldered  his   way,  and 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     127 

striding  up  to  the  father  and  flinging  the 
breeches  on  the  bench  before  the  door,  he 
demanded  : 

"My  marriage  license,  if  you  please.  I  re- 
turn the  breeches." 

The  old  man  stumbled  back  a  couple  of 
steps,  and  I  verily  believe  would  have  fallen 
but  for  the  press  of  elders  at  his  back.  At  last 
he  managed  to  gasp  : 

"You  back!" 

"My  marriage  license,  if  you  please." 

"But  how  did  you  get  out  of  the  mountain?" 

"I  was  not  in  the  mountain." 

"Then  in  the  name  of  all  the  gods,  where 
were  you? 

"Where  a  craftsman  should  be;  in  my  work- 
shop, exercising  my  brain  to  the  glory  of  my 
native  Thorp." 

"  In  your  workshop?  " 

"And  would  have  been  there  still,— there  for 
all  eternity  had  it  not  been  that  the  reputation 
of  my  beloved  Thorp  was  in  danger.  As  be- 
tween his  own  wishes  and  his  Thorp's  credit  an 
artist  cleaves  to  his  Thorp,  for  he  alone  of  all 
those  who  live  make  it  presentable  to  the  world 
and  guard  its  good  name.     Much  would  I  have 


128     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

preferred  to  have  remained  in  my  workshop, 
but  my  Thorp  cried,  and — my  marriage  permit, 
if  you  please." 

"You  pretended" — began  the  old  man,  when 
the  young  man  cut  him  short. 

"  Pretended?  not  a  bit  of  it,  I  was  in  the 
mountain — in  imagination,  which  is  as  real  to 
an  artist  as  to  be  in  person  in  the  mountain. 
I  had  to  go  to  the  mountain  to  bring  you  to  your 
senses.  I  could  not  afford  the  time  to  take  my 
hands  from  my  work,  so  I  stayed  in  my  shop 
and  sent  part  of  my  imagination  to  the  Yellow 
Lake.  An  ounce  of  imagination  is  worth  a  ton 
of  matter,  as  I  hope  this  Thorp  has  now  found 
out.     My  marriage  permit,  if  you  please." 

We  looked  at  one  another.  The  father 
scratched  his  head,  and  a  droll  grin  overspread 
his  fat  face  as  he  said  slowly  : 

"It  is  already  made  out,  and,  believe  me, 
young  man,  you  may  have  a  dozen  of  them  for 
the  asking." 

"One's  enough,  although  it  has  been  so  easily 
come  by.  Now  if  you  patriarchs  will  assume 
dignity  by  getting  into  the  Thorp's  robes  I  will 
read  to  you  the  address  of  welcome  I  have  em- 
bossed for  the  governor,  and  we'll  be  able  to 
pack  him  away  from  the  Thorp  long  before  the 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     129 

gloaming.  I  have  a  little  ceremony  of  my  own 
to  be  performed  before  the  sun  sets  tonight. 
On  with  your  breeches.'' 

Such  a  scurrying  I  never  before  had  seen. 
The  patriarchs  were  into  their  breeches  before 
we  of  the  crowd  had  ceased  to  gaze  at  one  an- 
other, and  I  saw,  as  in  a  dream,  the  pompous, 
glorious  prince  ride  in,  and  heard  him,  when  he 
had  got  his  hands  on  the  gold,  mouth  a  hollow, 
little  address,  which  the  people  took  for  what  it 
was  worth;  and  later  I  attended  with  every  soul 
in  the  Thorp  who  could  leap  or  crawl — for  the 
great  drum  called  the  people — the  wedding  of 
the  maker  of  gods  and  the  little  lady  of  the 
wheel.  The  -late  termagant  was  there,  a  new 
woman,  and  her  daughter  fulvous  and  respect- 
able as  ever;  my  good  hostess  victorious;  the 
blacksmith  with  a  new  sledge  over  his  shoulder 
— everyone,  in  fact.  And  all  seemed  happy. 
The  two  were  married  under  the  triumphal 
arch,  the  name  of  the  prince  having  been 
hastily  removed  the  moment  his  fat  back  was 
turned — it  is  the  way  people  have  with  their 
princes — and  emblems  of  real  joy  and  love 
hung  in  its  place;  and  the  people — I  and  my 
donkey  at  the  head  of  them — escorted  the 
happy  pair  to  their  house,  and  cheered  them  as 


130    The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

they  passed  through  the  doorway.  Then  we  sat 
down  to  think. 

That  evening,  I  fear  I  took  quite  as  much 
good  brew  into  me  as  the  gods  had  ever  in- 
tended I  should  in  two  hard  sittings.  We  could 
do  nothing  but  talk  of  the  craft  of  the  man.  It 
beat  anything  I  had  ever  met  with.  And  when 
we  thought  the  matter  over,  his  being  safe  and 
sound  in  his  shop  explained  many  things,  not 
the  least  of  which  was  the  cheerfulness  of  the 
little  witch  all  the  time  her  lover  was  supposed 
to  be  buried  in  the  mountain.  To  be  sure,  it 
was  all  very  plain  now.  She  had  easily  learned 
the  purport  of  each  message  which  was  being 
sent  into  the  mountain,  and  at  once  let  her  lover 
know  its  essence,  so  that  he  might  write  the  re- 
ply and  drop  it  into  the  stream  above  the  net 
during  the  hours  of  darkness;  very  likely  this 
part  of  the  job  she  also  did  for  him. 

After  the  first  burst  of  joy  over  the  recovery 
of  the  man  and  the  breeches  had  somewhat 
subsided,  and  when  they  had  drank  a  little  more 
than  enough,  it  was  then  that  there  stole  into 
the  breasts  of  the  people  a  feeling  of  soreness, 
and  a  tendency  to  let  the  matter  of  the  dispute 
pass  for  the  time  into  sudden  oblivion.  For 
people  do  resent  being  tricked,  especially  if 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     131 

their  neighbours  know  that  they  have  been 
tricked — ay,  even  although  those  same  neigh- 
bours have  been  hoaxed  in  the  same  way  and  at 
the  same  time.  And  when  we  came  to  thrash 
the  matter  out,  as  we  did  on  the  evening  of  the 
marriage,  we  could  not  congratulate  each  other 
on  our  sagacity.  There  was  at  least  one  event 
which  might  assuredly  have  caused  us  to  smell 
a  rat,  if  anyone  of  us  had  but  kept  a  reasonably 
cool  head  on  his  shoulders.  I  refer  to  the  red 
box  which  we  had  found  shortly  before  the 
ducking  of  the  termagant,  the  box  which  con- 
tained the  Thorp's  ultimatum  to  the  man  in  the 
mountain.  Had  not  an  answer  to  the  very  mes- 
sage been  received,  an  answer  peculiarly  scorn- 
ful and  defiant,  from  the  young  scamp?  And 
yet  the  missive  that  called  forth  this  reply  had 
never  been  taken  from  the  original  box.  It  was 
as  clear  as  day  when  we  came  to  review  the 
circumstances  in  the  light  of  facts  known. 
Truly  we  had  been  well  fooled.  Those  two 
persons,  the  maker  of  gods  and  the  little  lady  of 
the  wheel,  were  just  a  whit  too  clever  for  every- 
day folk  like  their  fellow-citizens,  so  thought 
the  people  of  the  Thorp.  As  the  days  passed, 
this  feeling  intensified  into  resentment  against 
the  two.     Indeed,  I  could  not  wonder  at  such 


132     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

being  the  case,  for  every  man  and  woman  in  the 
Thorp  had  been  sorely  tried,  physically  as  well 
as  in  the  spirit,  over  the  matter;  while  all  the 
time  the  only  comfortable  bodies  in  the  place 
were  the  two  who  had  the  least  right  to  be  com- 
fortable, to  wit,  the  maker  of  gods,  who  quietly 
pursued  his  calling  in  his  shop  the  while,  and 
his  hopeful  little  sweetheart,  who  kept  him  in- 
formed as  to  the  Thorp's  doings.  Now  this  was 
a  trifle  too  clever  for  ordinary  plain  folk,  and 
cleverness  never  begets  popularity  in  any 
country  under  the  sun. 

You  may  be  sure  I  kept  my  eyes  open,  for 
I  thought  that  I  detected  a  tendency  on  the 
part  of  the  people  to  hold  me  responsible,  at 
least  in  a  degree,  for  some  part  of  the  matter  ; 
it  must  have  been  because  I  was  the  last  to 
speak  with  the  culprit  before  his  sham  flitting 
to  the  shores  of  the  Yellow  Lake,  and  also  that 
I  franked  the  letter  that  caused  all  the  commo- 
tion. Moreover,  I  was  the  only  guest  the  two 
invited  to  sup  with  them  after  a  mannerly 
length  of  time.  As  time  passed,  I  saw  the 
sulky  animosity  of  the  people  growing  more 
intense,  and — a  bad  sign — the  contempt  of  the 
maker  of  gods  and  his  comfortable  little  spouse 
for  their  fellow    Thorpmen    and    women    in- 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     133 

creased  as  the  resentment  increased.  Occa- 
sionally a  red  box  would  be  seen  to  swim  out  of 
the  mouth  of  the  cavern  and  float  gently  down 
towards  the  hamlet.  This  would  be  quickly 
fished  out,  and  without  loss  of  time  buried. 
But  these  boxes  kept  the  sore  open. 

Having  now  well  lined  my  pockets  with  gold, 
and  filled  my  pack  with  nicknacks,  which  were 
cheap  in  the  Thorp,  I  thought  it  high  time  to 
get  away  before  a  second  dispute  arose  between 
the  Thorp  and  her  two  eccentric  citizens.  So 
one  fine  morning — there  had  been  ominous 
mutterings  on  the  previous  evening — I  kissed 
the  children  and  the  hostess  (she  was  a  com- 
fortable body  and  a  sound  cook,  I  believe  she 
did  not  think  unkindly  of  me,  nor  guess  my  age 
by  half  a  score  years  or  more),  and  bade  my 
kind  host  "good-bye,"  and  without  further  par- 
ley made  off  with  my  donkey  and  pack  for 
parts  unknown  around  the  mountain,  not  at  all 
ill-pleased  to  get  so  well  away  from  the  strange 
place.  There  had  been  rather  too  much  ma- 
terial for  wholesome  speculation  during  my 
stay  in  the  Thorp  to  suit  even  an  artful  pack- 
man. But  as  it  was  my  custom  never  to  let  an 
occasion  slip  for  improving  my  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  I,  at  our  first  resting-place  that 


134     The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings 

day,  made  these  observations  to  my  cuddy,  and 
as  they  seemed  to  meet  with  her  approval,  they 
are  clearly  good  enough  to  give  to  the  world. 
There  are  twelve  in  all.  I  would  have  liked  to 
add  another,  something  about  the  sad  waste  of 
time  if  one  fashes  his  head  about  other  people's 
goings-on;  but  although  I  am  by  no  means 
superstitious,  it  has  ever  been  my  way  to  be 
careful,  and  to  choose  the  safe  side,  and  thirteen 
is  held  in  Christian  lands  to  be  an  unlucky 
number.     So  twelve  it  shall  be  : — 

A  man's  gods  are  of  use  to  him — sometimes. 

A  huff  often  pays  when  it  puts  the  sulky  one 
to  no  inconvenience. 

Our  greatest  strivings  are  after  that  which 
exists  only  in  imagination. 

Have  a  shrewd  regard  for  superstition,  but 
do  not  let  it  make  you  miss  a  meal. 

If  you  dam  a  stream,  look  out  for  the  over- 
flow. 

Do  not  judge  a  man  by  his  breeches. 

A  clever  deed  brings  its  own  retribution. 

She  can  keep  a  cheery  face  who  knows  all  is 
well. 

Mountains,  rocks,  and  floods  are  seldom 
found  between  true-loves. 


The  Gods  Give  My  Donkey  Wings     135 

He  that  journeys  afar  can  tell  a  strange 
tale. 

If  you  wish  to  find  the  man,  find  his  wench. 

And  most  important  of  all  : 

Pack,  paunch,  and  pocket  filled,  fill  the  pipe, 
and  away. 


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FIELD,  EUGENE. 

The  Holy  Cross  and  Other  Tales. 
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GALE,  NORMAN. 

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and  enlarged.      Printed  by  T.  &  A.  Constable, 
Edinburgh.    Crown,  8vo.     145  pp.    $1.25,  net. 
3 


GALE,  NORMAN   {continued). 

A  June  Romance.  With  a  titlepage  and 
tailpiece  designed  by  Basil  Johnson.  Printed 
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ENGLISH  CLASSICS. 

Edited  by  William  Ernest  Henley.  The 
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THE    LIFE    AND     OPINIONS    OF 

TRISTRAM  SHANDY. 
By  Laurence  Sterne.      With  an  introduction 
by  Charles  Whibley,  and  a  portrait.      2  vols. 

THE     COMEDIES     OF    WILLIAM 

CONGREVE. 
With  an  introduction  by  G.  S.  Street,  and  a 
portrait.      2  vols. 

4 


ENGLISH    CLASSICS   (continued). 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  HAJJI  BABA 
OF  ISPAHAN. 
By  James  Morier.     With  an  introduction  by 
E.  S.  Browne,  M.  A.,  and  a  portrait,      a  vols. 

ENGLISH   SEAMEN. 
By  Robert  Southey.      i  vol. 

LIVES  OF  DONNE,  WOTTON, 
HOOKER,  HERBERT,  AND  SAN- 
DERSON. 

By  Izaak  Walton.  With  an  introduction  by 
Vernon  Blackburn,  and  a  portrait.      i  vol. 

Others   to  follow. 

GARLAND,  HAMLIN. 

Prairie  Songs.  Verses.  With  cover,  head 
and  inital  letter  pieces  designed  by  H.  T.  Car- 
penter. Printed  at  the  University  Press  on 
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Carpenter.  Printed  at  the  University  Press  on 
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i6mo.      192  pp.      #1.25. 

GOSSE,  EDMUND. 

In   Russet    and    Silver.      Printed   at   the 

University  Press  on  English  laid  paper.  Cover 
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GRAHAME,  KENNETH. 

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HAKE,  THOMAS  GORDON. 

Selections  from  the  Poems  of  Thomas 
Gordon  Hake.  Edited,  with  an  introduction, 
by  Mrs.  Meynell  (Alice  C.  Thompson).     With 

7 


a  portrait  after  a  drawing  by  Dante  Gabriel 
Rossetti.  Printed  by  T.  Sc  A.  Constable,  Edin- 
burgh.     Crown  8vo.      155  pp.      $1.50,  net. 

HALE,  EDWARD  EVERETT. 
See  Taylor. 

HALL,  GERTRUDE. 

See  Green  Tree  Library,  Vol.  IV. 

HALL,  TOM. 

When  Hearts  are  Trumps.  Verses. 
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See  Swing. 

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HOWELLS,  W.  D. 

See  Garland. 

IBSEN,  HENRIK. 

Little  Eyolf.      See  Green  Tree  Library, 
Vol.  III. 
MACKAY,  ERIC. 

A  Song  of  the  Sea,  Mv  Ladv  of  Dreams, 
and  Other  Poems.  By  the  author  of  "The 
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MAETERLINCK,  MAURICE. 

Plays  of  Maurice  Maeterlinck. 

See  Green  Tree  Library,  Vols.  II.  and  VII. 

S 


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The  Quest  of  Heracles  and  Other. 
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Gelder  handmade  paper.  i6mo.  95  pp. 
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MEEKINS,  LYNN  R. 

The    Robb's   Island  Wreck  and  Other 
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i6mo.     192  pp.     $1.00. 
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See  Hake. 

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MOULTON,  LOUISE  CHANDLER. 

Arthur  O'Shauchnessy.  His  Life  and 
His  Work,  with  selections  from  his  poems. 
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Jaccaci.  Printed  at  the  De  Vinne  Press  on 
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MORIER,  JAMES. 

The  Adventures  of  Hajji  Baba  of  Ispa- 
han.    See  English  Classics. 
9 


OSBOURNE,  LLOYD. 

See  Stevenson. 

O'SHAUGHNESSY,  ARTHUR. 

See  Moulton. 

PARKER,  GILBERT. 

A  Lover's  Diary.  Songs  in  Sequence. 
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POE,  EDGAR  ALLAN. 

The  Complete  Works  of  Edgar  Allan 
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stands — for  the  first  time  —  as  Poe  wished  it  to 
10 


stand.  The  editors  contribute  a  memoir,  critical 
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11 


SHARP,  WILLIAM. 

Vistas.      See  Green  Tree  Library,  Vol.  I. 
The   Gypsy   Christ   and  Other    Tales. 
See  Carnation  Series,  Vol.  I. 

SOUTHALL,  J.  E. 

The  Story  of  Bluebeard.  Newly  trans- 
lated and  elaborately  illustrated.      #1.25. 

SOUTHEY,  ROBERT. 

English  Seamen.     See  English  Classics. 

STEDMAN,    E.  C.      See  Poe. 

STERNE,  LAURENCE. 

The    Life   and    Opinions    of    Tristram 

Shandy.      See  English  Classics. 

STEVENSON,  ROBERT  LOUIS. 

The  Later  Works  of  Robert  Louis  Stev- 
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The  Amateur  Emigrant.    180  pp.    $1.25. 

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12 


STREET,  G.  S. 
See  Congreve. 

SWING,  DAVID. 

Old  Pictures  of  Life.  With  an  introduc- 
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TAYLOR,  WINNIE  LOUISE. 

His  Broken  Sword.  A  novel.  With  an 
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i2mo.  Gilt  top,  deckled  edges.  354  pp. 
Si. 2 5.  Third  edition. 

THOMPSON,  MAURICE. 

Lincoln's  Grave.  A  Poem.  With  a  title- 
page  by  George  H.  Hallowell.  Printed  at  the 
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VERLAINE,  PAUL. 

Poems  of  Paul  Verlaine.  See  Green  Tree 
Library,  Vol.  IV. 

WHIBLEY,  CHARLES. 

See  Sterne. 

WOODBERRY,  GEORGE  EDWARD. 

See  Poe. 

YEATS,  W.  B. 

The  Land  of  Heart's  Desire.  A  play. 
With  a  frontispiece  by  Aubrey  Beardsley.  Prin- 
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